


Galactica

by TheArtificialDane, veronicasanders



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Devil Wears Prada Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:54:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 130,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24490051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtificialDane/pseuds/TheArtificialDane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/veronicasanders/pseuds/veronicasanders
Summary: Welcome to the world of Galactica, one of New York’s most renowned fashion houses, ruled by the legendary Miss Fame. Follow Violet Chachki, Miss Fame’s talented assistant, as she navigates the colorful personalities and daily dramas of the cutthroat fashion world in order to prove herself as a designer.Ego, romance, ambition, loyalty, and intrigue all collide in this epic of a story.[A remastered version of Galactica]
Relationships: Adore Delano | Danny Noriega/Pearl Liaison, Bianca Del Rio/Shane Jenek | Courtney Act, Courtney Act/Willam Belli, Miss Fame/Pearl Liaison, Sutan Amrull | Raja/Raven, Sutan Amrull | Raja/Violet Chachki, Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova, Violet Chachki/Pearl Liaison
Comments: 279
Kudos: 89





	1. Chapter 1

“Mh-” Violet swallowed a sound of discomfort as she allowed her body to dump down in her chair. 

If the door to her boss' office hadn’t been closed, Violet would never have dared to act so ungracefully, but it was closed and she was aching all over, her shoulder pounding with it’s oh so familiar pain. Violet carefully toed her heels off, her stocking clad feet touching the carpet, her painted toenails visible through the nylon material.

She had been running around Manhattan all day in yet another desperate chase to satisfy her boss’s every whim, racing against time to predict her every need before she even realized it was there.

Violet had known right from the start that working at Galactica would be hard, what she hadn’t expected was how hard it would actually be to work for Miss “The Brand” Fame herself.

Galactica was one of the most successful fashion houses in America, the company rising to stardom during the early 2000s, led with an iron fist by Miss Fame, her trusted right-hand woman Raja Amrull always by her side.

Miss Fame was a perfectionist in everything she did, Galactica known for their quality and attention to detail, the brand always amazing for bigger and better.

The company had one rule.

Perfection above all—and Violet would rather die than not live up to that.

Violet grabbed her personal phone from her drawer, using the moment of privacy to check her messages. There was only one, and Violet felt a red hot spike of anger and annoyance stab itself right into her stomach. 

It was from her landlord, informing her of the fact that the electricity in her building was once again acting up, the tone of the text pretending that it wasn’t something that happened several times a month, her teeny tiny studio apartment barely more than a glorified closet. 

There was nothing she could do about it, arguing with her landlord or trying to file a complaint getting her nowhere, so Violet took a deep breath, straightening her back. 

“Keep it together, Chachki.” Violet grabbed her keyboard, her moment of rest over. She would look for another place to live, wanted to find a reliable place she could call home, but that was impossible in Manhattan on an assistant’s salary. 

She could hear chatter come from the office, Fame’s melodic voice carrying through the door, the chatter occasionally interrupted by the baritone of her husband, Patrick. 

Violet barely kept a groan back as she saw her mailbox. She had only left to deliver a reviewed sample to the in house tailoring department, but in the 35 minutes she had been gone, over 100 emails had ticked in. She quickly sorted them, her time under Fame’s firm hand almost making the job easy as she knew exactly what her boss wanted to see, and what she could consider nonsensical garbage.

Violet was exhausted, the time already past 6 pm, but if Fame was at the office, she was at the office.

It was part of the game, and Violet always played to win.

“Still here, pumpkin?”

Violet looked up from her computer, only to see someone watching her from the door.

“Hello, Pearl.”

Pearl smirked, her long beachy waves spilling down her back. She was wearing a black leather jacket, a white t-shirt tied into a knot to expose her midriff, and her long legs were clad in black skinny jeans, and Violet felt her heart skip a beat.

She didn’t look anything like the department head she was, Pearl in charge of all online content and written media that Galactica produced.

It was Pearl Liaison who had gotten her the job at Galactica, though Pearl swore she had only gotten her the interview, but Violet could recognize a favor when she saw it, and Pearl had definitely done her one. 

They had met during Violet’s final year at Parsons School of Design. Pearl was writing a story for Galactica’s social media on the new crop of design students, and Violet was graduating top of her class. Pearl had sent her the article for review, and somehow they had continued emailing, a random twist of fate tying them together in a friendship that Violet treasured with her entire heart.

She was desperately searching her brain for a way to extend their conversation, the want for something, anything, to come out of her mouth that could catch and keep Pearl’s attention simply not showing up, when the other woman continued talking.

“Tell her I stopped by,” Pearl smirked, tilting her head towards Fame’s office, “If she ever finishes that budget meeting.” Pearl pushed herself away from the door with her shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow…” Violet replied, but Pearl was already gone. She was just about to return the emails at hand when she heard a voice call out. It was one she’d recognize anywhere at any time.

“Violet!”

Violet froze in place, Fame’s voice coming from inside of her office. 

Fame never called for her when she was with her husband unless something was seriously wrong, but Violet had no idea of what she could have possibly done. She clicked on her calendar, her heart hammering away in her chest, but there was nothing there, no sign of anything she might have missed. They had asked for coffee, hadn’t requested dinner. There was nothing on Violet’s desk to deliver and most of the department heads had already gone home for the day.

“Violet!”

The impatience was clear, and Violet knew she was out of time.

“Coming, Miss!”

Violet stood up and stepped into her shoes, smoothing down her dress and checking her makeup in her now black computer screen before she grabbed her notebook and made her way into the lion’s den.

***

“There you are.” Fame heard the click on the door, her assistant finally responding to her call. “How many times do I have to scream your name?”

Fame was sitting on the small couch in her office, the coffee table filled with the budget proposals for the upcoming NYC Fashion Week show. Patrick was sitting at her side, their knees touching.

Fame didn’t actually need him there, the days of Patrick helping her and Raja with the day to day Galactica budgets long behind them. Nowadays, he ran a law firm on the 19th floor, only involved in Galactica matters as a legal consultant. But even though he was no longer their acting CFO, Fame liked having him with her when she dealt with financial matters, since she liked to go into meetings with her new CFO as well-prepared as possible.

She valued his opinion, enjoyed her husband’s direct, no-nonsense perspective regarding her company’s finances, even when she ignored most of it.

“Sorry, Miss.”

Fame took a proper look at Violet. Her back was perfectly straight, her light pink lips set in a thin line, her brows furrowed in a serious expression over watchful brown eyes. 

Violet was always beyond attentive, and that combined with her impeccable dress sense was one of the things Fame liked the most about her. She never had to worry about Violet embarrassing her or the brand, even now, as Violet was standing there after a long day of work in her black Louboutins, the dress of the day hugging her slender body, black wavy hair spilling down her back, sharp bangs across her forehead, she looked good.

She had had many assistants over the years, her commands and demands driving weaker willed people away, but Violet had stuck to it, had worked through everything Fame had thrown at her.

“I need the expected showroom budget and staff needs for the influencer event...” 

Violet jotted it down right away, elegant hands taking note of everything.

“Yes, miss.” Violet held still for a beat, waiting in place in case Fame needed anything else, but all she wanted was the budget.

She turned her attention back to her husband, Patrick looking up at her with a small smile, which reminded Fame of a conversation she had had with Raja over lunch earlier that same day.

“Actually-” Fame twisted her body. “How do you like it here at Galactica, Violet?”

Violet had frozen in place, her fingers around the door handle. She didn’t move, and Fame raised a brow, just about to tell her assistant to please pay attention for the love of god, when her husband chimed in.

“You’ve been with the company for almost a year now, haven’t you?”

“Yes Miss, umh, sir-” Violet turned around, and if Fame didn’t know her so well, she wouldn’t have noticed that her fingers were clutching her notebook. “I love it here.”

Patrick smiled, clearly pleased with himself, and Fame loved him for his attempted rescue of Violet, how he always showed compassion for everyone around him, but she couldn’t help but want to needle Violet one last time before she delivered the news that was on her mind.

“I’ve noticed.” Fame kept her tone light, keeping Violet on unstable ground. “Others have too.” 

Violet’s eyes widened, and Fame couldn’t figure out if the surprise on her face, the display of modesty, was fake or not. Violet had to know that she was doing a good job, didn’t she?

“You’re a Parsons graduate.” Fame folded her hands in her lap. “Correct?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“I’ve taken a look at your portfolio.” The thick leather-bound thing was lying on her desk, Pearl handing it to her right when Violet had been hired, but Fame hadn’t taken the time to actually open it until now. “I didn’t dislike what I saw-”

The set of Violet’s shoulders changed, pride radiating from her. Not disliking the portfolio was an understatement. 

Her and Raja had flipped through it together, the pages taken up by photographs of what could only be fashion students wearing clothes that suited them wonderfully, sketches of intricate gowns tucked in with embroidery samples and pearl work worthy of an atelier employee.

It was absolutely stunning, and Fame had already made up her mind to file it away in her personal library in her townhouse.

“You have potential beyond your years.”

Fame could practically feel Patrick roll his eyes, her husband often finding her antics overly dramatic, but this was a serious moment, and Fame wanted to treat it as such.

“Raja and I had a discussion-” Fame smiled, “and we’d like to move you to design.”

Violet looked like she was about to faint, which was exactly why Fame had chosen to give her the news of her promotion like this. Fame loved playing the role of fairy godmother to the people who caught her interest almost as much as she loved crushing her enemies—but only almost.

“We’d have to hire a replacement for you.” Fame tapped her fingers on the table, pretending like the plan wasn’t something she had discussed in detail with Raja. “and I of course expect you to train your successor before you can leave. You know how much I despise incompetence-”

Violet nodded, the grave seriousness on her face almost making Fame feel giddy. 

“So-” Fame crossed her legs. “What do you think of my little proposal?”

“That it would be very acceptable.”

“Good.” Fame swallowed a laugh. “That’s all.”

Violet turned on her heel, the only thing betraying her emotions the slight slam of the door as Violet closed it behind her. She picked up the budget, ready to get back to work when she was interrupted.

“So that was quite the little play.” Patrick was looking at her, a smile in his blue eyes. “I’m shocked, my darling.”

“Why?” Fame bit her lip, a moment of uncertainty breaking through her armor. “Do you disagree with my decision?” Patrick didn’t have anything to say, hiring and how she managed her workers entirely up to her, but there was something in Patrick’s face she didn’t quite recognize.

“Oh no, not at all.” Patrick put his hand on her knee, his fingers bunching up the ivory white silk of her skirt. “I simply assumed that you wouldn’t have let someone like little Miss Chachki go without having your fun with her.”

“Really Patrick,” Fame scoffed, pretending to be offended for a minute by her husband's suggestion, but they both knew there was a truth to his words, Fame rarely passing a gorgeous woman up, but she had never felt the spark with Violet, and she wasn’t going to start now. “We’re here for the budget.”

“Of course my love.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Violet received the thrilling news that Fame intends to promote her to design as soon as she finds and trains a new assistant.   
> This Chapter: We meet the other department heads.

Violet looked out on the conference table one final time, consulting the list in her notebook to make sure that nothing was forgotten. It was Wednesday morning, the 9am monthly creative meeting starting in less than 15 minutes.

The table was set with a light breakfast spread, no one but Trixie and Alyssa ever actually eating at these things, but she had made sure there was a selection of fruits, and that everyone had their favorite beverages besides the ginormous coffee order. Keeping track of the department heads and their various likes and dislikes was almost a job in itself, but Violet had gotten it down to a science.

There were frosted Pellegrinos for Fame, Raja preferring grapefruit juice. Alyssa liked Redbull, Alaska preferred diet Doctor Pepper, Trixie was a regular coke kind of guy while Pearl was a wildcard, but Violet had a good feeling about the chocolate milkshake, since she had heard the rumor that Pearl had been out partying.

Violet had spent most of last night writing the job description for the new assistant, falling asleep with her notebook in hand, only to wake up in a panic at 3 am to realize that the electricity was out yet again. She had slept restlessly for the rest of the night, then missed her first alarm, barely making it to her gym for a shower before coming in to work at 7.30 sharp, and while Violet knew she looked flawless, it felt fundamentally wrong to take a stop at her gym without working out.

The only bright spot so far had been how HR had accepted her initial proposal right away, giddiness bubbling in her chest at the thought that the process of finding her replacement was actually happening.

“- and don’t forget to bring the swatches.”

Raja Amrull was standing by the window, her phone to her ear, a cup of coffee already at her lips as she spoke to her assistant.

Raja Amrull was the chief creative officer, co-founder of Galactica and one of Fame’s very best friends. Violet took a moment to watch her as she gave order after order, her voice filled with a natural authority that always made Violet’s stomach do a flip. 

Raja was wearing a mustard fitted pantsuit, the black hair that almost reached her waist put in intricate braids, and Violet knew it was the work of her girlfriend. Raja’s tan skin was practically glowing in the morning sun, the dark brown tattoos on her left hand standing out.

Even though she was in her 40s, 41 if Violet remembered correctly, she still looked every bit the supermodel she had been in the 00’s. 

Raja wasn’t a naturally sweet person, but in Violet’s opinion that didn’t matter. She was competent and got her business done, which was something Violet admired in a leader.

“Violet?”

Violet blushed, the sound Raja’s voice cutting through her daydream. She had been so caught up in watching her that she hadn’t actually paid attention, but Raja had never been known for her patience, so she simply snapped, pointing at the room's thermostat, and Violet quickly made her way over, turning it down four degrees to the temperature she knew Raja preferred.

She felt like an idiot for forgetting, and she promised herself that it wouldn’t happen again. 

Alaska, head of makeup and fragrances, was the first to arrive. The blonde wasn’t particularly talkative before her third cup of coffee, her every word drawn out in long lazy vowels. Alyssa came second, Violet counting her blessings that the marketing director had shown up on time. Alyssa always got the job done, but getting her anywhere on schedule was always an experience, the woman forever off in her very own world where she was the star of everything.

Fame was third, her first words as she stepped through the door, “Why is no one ready?” and Violet felt her stomach clench.

The meeting wasn’t scheduled to start for another 10 minutes, but that was one of the most terrifying things about Fame. She was never early, she was never late, everyone else was simply supposed to be there the exact moment she wanted them.

Violet was just about to open her mouth to apologize for Pearl, when the woman in question came in through the door. 

“Morning everyone.” Pearl smiled, her voice a slow drawl. She was wearing a black turtleneck crop top, a black miniskirt and Violet was pretty sure she could see pieces of golden glitter in her unwashed blonde locks. 

Alaska waved, but Fame gave her one single slow judgemental once-over, the kind that Violet had witnessed cause several interns to burst into tears.

“What are you wearing?” Fame’s voice was icy cold, but Pearl only smirked.

“You don’t like it?”

“Did you sleep in your makeup?” Fame reached out, touching Pearl’s chin with a single finger and tilting her head up, turning her face from side to side. “You know how I feel about this mistreatment of your skin.”

Fame dropped her hand, and Violet immediately handed her a tissue. Fame wiped her fingers, giving the now crumpled paperback to Violet, the whole exchange taking less than 10 seconds.

“You smell like an illegal teen party.”

“It’s because I’ve been to one.” Pearl smiled brightly, Fame’s disapproval and rudeness clearly not touching her at all. “Wait until you see the photos. Half the partygoers were wearing our newest print. Trixie was absolutely right-”

Just as Fame said those words, Trixie pushed through the door, the senior creative team of Galactica now all present, to Violet’s relief. 

“You rang?” he said with a cheeky grin, earning a fist bump from Pearl. 

It had taken Violet months to realize how much of a genius Trixie actually was--his close-shaven brown hair, obvious bald spot, a fondness for colorful t-shirts and love handles all doing everything they could to hide that he was one of the main forces behind Galactica’s success. But Trixie (who’s real name was Brian, though Violet had never heard anyone call him that) was wildly creative, known for his effective management style and outside the box thinking.

While Raja handled the broad creative direction and was the face of the company to customers and consumers, Trixie was in charge of the day to day operations of the design departments. He ruled the design atelier and the tailoring department with a gentle touch, though no one dared cross him, Trixie just as willing as anyone else in the boardroom to do what it took to get the job done.

“I’m sorry I’m late-” Trixie yawned, barely hiding it behind his hand.

“I take it the collection is going well?” Raja smirked, her knife cutting through an apple. 

“Don’t even ask.” Trixie groaned, sitting down in a chair, grabbing the coffee - two-pump caramel, whole fat milk - Violet delivered to his hand and drinking it down greedily. “My machine broke and ate most of my prototype.”

“So it’s not here?” Fame raised a brow, but Trixie shook his head, reaching into the paper bag he had brought along.

“I’ve been remaking it all night on Katya’s shitty theater machine.” 

“Oh, my poor darling.” Fame leaned against the edge of the table, gently running a hand through Trixie’s buzzed hair. “We’ll get you a new one.” “Thank you.” Trixie smiled, and Violet grabbed her notebook, knowing that Fame without a doubt expected her to find the exact same machine Trixie had broken and get it delivered to his apartment before the workday was over.

***

A knock caught Violet’s attention. She was back in the office, writing out her to-do list from the meeting, her nails clacking away on the keyboard.

“Violet?” Max Malaphany was standing in the door, a smile on his lips. “Is she in?” 

Max was an impossibly tall British man, his soft short hair grey, his eyes blue.

“Sorry,” Violet quickly pressed save, turning her chair. “Fame is in a meeting, but I can pencil you in for later?”

Max was Galactica’s main photographer, and one of Fame’s treasured darlings. He had a studio on the top floor, his sure hands and endless patience capturing all in house media, Galactica producing every single shot for their website themself, and while Violet wouldn’t have believed it made that much of a difference, their online portfolio had thousands and thousands of visitors every single day. 

“I’ll just wait here.” Max was carrying a portable light table under his arm, and Violet could only guess what would be in his backpack. “I’ll only be a moment.”

If it had been anyone else, she would have protested, ushered them out of her little front office one way or the other, but Max was different. He was one of the few calming presences at Galactica, he never probed, rarely gossiped, and Violet truly enjoyed that about him.

“Do you want some water?” Violet had a mini-fridge under her desk stocked with the most important supplies, since she never knew when Fame’s cravings or the mood of her guests would strike.

“I’d love that.”

She quickly grabbed him a water, and Max settled down in one of the plush armchairs normally reserved for visitors. He didn’t start talking, wasn’t trying to make chit chat that would inevitably turn awkward, which was why Violet had allowed him to stay.

She went back to her memo, working for a little while but her eyes were stinging, and she only barely managed to hide a yawn behind her hand. 

“Are you feeling alright, Violet?” Max asked gently. 

“What?” In spite of her exhaustion, Violet was in a fairly good mood, and while she didn’t have the sunniest disposition, she wasn’t actively annoyed at the moment. She quickly checked her face in the glass door to the office, smoothing down her hair.

“You look lovely as always, Violet.” Max smiled. “I was only asking because, well, I’ve never seen you slouch before. Are you feeling unwell?”

“Oh…” Violet straightened her back, her fingers in her thick black locks. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Okay.” Max nodded. His expression was so understanding, his manner so patient, that Violet did something she rarely ever did. She offered more information. 

“I’m just tired, I-” Violet swallowed down a nervous chuckle, her tongue feeling like it was growing in size in her mouth. “I don’t sleep well these days. The electricity in my building, isn’t, it isn’t very stable, and I keep having these nightmares where my phone runs out of charge so I miss an important call and-”

“Oh dear.” 

Violet realized how stupid she had to sound, but she had woken up covered in sweat thinking she had missed calls from Fame, any rest she got broken up by the worry that she wasn’t doing her job.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothing to worry about really,” Violet assured him. “The landlord said they’ll rewire the building-” Max didn’t need to know that her landlord had been promising that exact thing the entire time Violet had been living there, but she didn’t really have any other options, her student debt way too much for her to even consider spending another penny on rent. “I’m sure it’ll work itself out.”

“Well, I wish you the best of luck with that,” he said sincerely. Just then, the door opened and Jaida, the company's CFO, came out. 

“Max!” Fame appeared in the doorway, a delighted smile on her face. 

Violet’s stomach turned to ice, everything in her begging that Fame hadn’t heard her complain.

“Hello Miss. I know you’re terribly busy, but I wondered if you could spare a few minutes to discuss the test shoot for the new brochures yesterday?”

“Of course, anything for you!” Fame said. She truly was a different person in Max’s presence, Violet noted. Softer and calmer--as most people were. 

“Wonderful.”

***

“Oh I don’t know about this light for orange, it’s so ghastly-” Fame was chewing her lip, a lens in her hand as she went over the pictures Max had brought in for her.

“Fame?”

“Yes dearest?” Fame looked up. She loved Max. When Pearl had told her of a British wildlife photographer she had met in LA and bullied into taking her picture, Fame hadn’t been interested. As always, Pearl had proven to have an eye for talent that few could compete with, her social media director not only able to sniff out trends like a bloodhound, no, she knew people, and she knew them instantly.

Max had a rare talent for capturing the natural beauty of an unnatural world, so much of fashion made up of things that didn’t matter, but when he shot, when he turned his lens on someone, he captured all the best they could offer each and every time.

“I heard Ivy moved in with her boyfriend.”

“Mmh?” It was indeed true. Raja’s assistant, Ivy, had been living in the building Fame and Patrick owned for a few years. Fame and Raja had almost gotten in a fight, something that never happened, when Ivy’s house in Queens had been torn down, but in the end Raja had gotten her will, Ivy moving into the studio apartment on the top floor. “She left two weeks ago.” 

Fame had meant to find someone else to take the apartment, but that building was special. It wasn’t just an apartment complex, it was a place where she kept her chosen ones, a safe haven she offered to talent that she trusted. 

“You know, Violet doesn’t have reliable electricity. In her building. I mean.”

“Oh Max.” Fame smiled, touching Max’s knee. “You have always had such a tender heart.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: We met Galactica’s senior creative team. 
> 
> This Chapter: After a near disaster, Violet receives even more good news from Miss Fame.

Violet’s heels went  _ clack, clack, clack _ as she ran down the corridor towards the design department of Galactica, her phone pressed to her ear. 

It was Thursday morning, and Violet had once again barely gotten any sleep, and it was beyond unfair that she had to start the day with a shitshow.

One of their newer employees, brought on to help with their spring collection, had not shown up for her run through with Fame and Raja. Their spring collection show at New York Fashion Week was just under two months away, and while it seemed like a long time, it was close enough that Fame had started to get ansty over any and all delays.

The only reason Violet hadn’t been scalped was the fact that Trixie had been there to calm Fame down, Ivy sending her a long look of sympathy as she had practically sprinted out the door. 

Violet turned the corner, finally reaching the design department and she grabbed the door, throwing it open with so much force it slammed into the wall.

An avalanche of sound hit her, designers working on prototypes left and right, the chatter of the men and women who worked in Trixie’s team washing over her.

“Where’s Gia?!”

Violet never raised her voice, yelling such an unfamiliar feeling, but it gave her the intended reaction. Everyone paused, sewing machines stopping, the floor falling completely silent.

She could feel the eyes of April on her, Blu sitting by Jovan’s desk. She saw Alexis stand by a dress form, and she felt her stomach clench when she realized that these would be her new coworkers, that she had essentially just kicked the door in to her new place of work, but then, at the back of the room, Gia raised her hand, and Violet zoomed in.

Violet walked through the department, men and women parting for her like she was crossing the Red Sea. Gia was standing with her hand on a clothing rack, Aiden so close to her it was clear the two had been caught up in conversation.

“Do you realise-” Violet hissed, “that you were supposed to be in Fame’s office 10 minutes ago?”

“I’m-” Gia’s eyes widened, all color disappearing from her face. “Isn’t the meeting at-”

“No.” Violet cut her off, not giving Gia any chance to explain. “No it’s not.”

“Shit-” Blu muttered, and Violet knew that she had to look terrifying. She felt terrifying, and powerful, and like she was ready to tear out Gia’s earring.

“Do you know what happens when Fame is disappointed in you?”

It wasn’t often that she took on this role, but as an assistant, as Fame’s assistant, she wasn’t just the gatekeeper of her boss’ office, wasn’t just the one who decided who got Fame’s time and who didn’t, she was also the executioner when someone failed, and Gia had done exactly that.

“Violet-” Gia choked out, the woman looking like she was genuinely about to cry, “I’m so sorry-”

Violet made a ‘zip it’ gesture, effectively shutting Gia up. “Run right now-” Violet pointed at the door, “if you want to have any chance at not getting fired.”

“Do you think she’s going to fire me?!” Gia’s voice went up, her tone nearing hysterics, and while Violet was still furious about what Gia’s misstep would mean for her entire day, she couldn’t help but feel compassion towards the woman who had only made a mistake.

“I don’t know,-” Violet sighed, gently touching Gia’s arm. “She’s not happy-” Gia bit her lip, her eyes wide and frightened. “Now run!”

Gia pushed past her, disappearing at lightning speed towards the elevator, the rack behind her rolling so fast Violet could hear the wheels squeak.

The door closed, and after a few seconds the first buzz of a sewing machine pierced through the stunned silence. Before Violet had time to blink, the department was back in full swing, everyone talking as if nothing had happened at all.

Violet felt hot, the perfectly steamed dress she had put on this morning no longer crease-free, and if she was truly lucky her carefully applied eyeliner hadn’t run while she’d taken the stairs two at a time.

Gia’s fuck-up meant that Fame would be behind on her schedule all day and therefore in a terrible mood which Violet would have to deal with, on top of her meeting with HR since the posting for her replacement was finally ready to go online.

Violet looked at the clock on the wall, time ticking by. She did a quick calculation in her head, her lip between her teeth. Gia would have to take the long way around with the rack, and if Violet took a shortcut through marketing, she still had five minutes before she needed to get back to work.

The rest of her morning would most likely be spent being invisible in Fame’s office, her and Ivy standing side by side as they did whatever their bosses needed of them. 

Violet felt something cold press against her cheek, and she jumped, a loud, happy laugh surprising her.

She turned towards the sensation, and there, right in front of her, was a blonde woman with a brilliant smile and some of the whitest teeth Violet had ever seen, a bottle of water in hand.

“Here.” The woman held it out, and Violet hadn’t even realized she was thirsty, her body still hot from all the anxiety it had been through.

Violet had gotten better about people yelling at her, but it could still shake her to the core if she was caught on the wrong foot.

“Thank you…” Violet took the bottle, the woman vaguely familiar to her, and then, it clicked. “Oh! You’re, you’re Katya Zama- Zamol-” Violet realized that she had no idea how to actually pronounce the last name she had cursed at every single time she had been made to add it to a guest list. “You’re Trixie’s girlfriend.”

“I am.” Katya nodded, her blue eyes shining with mischief. “Drink.” 

Violet quickly did as Katya asked, the cold water beyond delicious. 

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I-” Violet paused. She had never been asked that after yelling at someone, most employees at Galactica absolutely preferring to ignore it as best they could when they got chewed out by an assistant who was below them in every other way. “Umh.”

“I’ve been where you are,” Katya leaned against the table. “Believe it or not, but I was Fame’s assistant for about four months once.

Violet didn’t, in fact, believe her. “You’ve worked for Fame?”

Katya was wearing a fuzzy brown skirt and a blue cardigan that Violet was pretty sure had little cloud buttons holding it together. Her blonde hair was collected in a messy bun, the sides decorated with small hair clips of various animals in gold. 

“Worst time of my life.” Katya smiled. “I teach first grade now.” She pointed at Violet. “You have a little-”

Shit. Violet had completely forgotten about her eyeliner. She was about to apologize, when Katya clicked open a bag that was sitting on the table. It was a giant glitter hand, the nails all painted red.

“Here.” Katya handed Violet an eyeliner, and while she would never normally take cosmetics from someone who was essentially a stranger, time was ticking away. Katya handed her a mirror too, the back of it a teddy bear in bright blue. 

“Thank you.” Violet bit her lip as she freshened up her eyes. 

“No problem.” Katya smiled, her white teeth shining. “Just tell Trix I’m waiting for him, and that he better be ready for some serious slushie time.”

***

Violet was, of course, back at her desk by the time Fame’s meeting with Gia ended, giving the designer a glare as she slunk from Fame’s office, then changing her expression instantly once Trixie and Raja stepped through the door, giving them both polite smiles. 

_ “Violet!” _

Violet paused. Had Fame seen the stink eye she had thrown in Gia’s direction? While Fame had shown her pleasure with Violet’s work when she had offered her the promotion to design, that didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to blame her for Gia being late and tear her a new one. Violet quickly collected her things, cursing under her breath as she hurried into Fame’s office.

“Yes, Miss?” Violet asked, notebook in hand, pen out to write down whatever information she hoped would be thrown her way. 

“Sit down,” Fame ordered, pointing to the chair opposite her desk, her expression inscrutable, hands folded. 

Violet obeyed instantly, a chill running down her spine. Fame looked serious, really serious, and Violet wondered for a moment if the Gia debacle would be enough to pull her transfer off the table. It was only her years as a teenage working professional that kept her face passive, her body shifting into it’s on stage position as she took a deep breath through her nose, masking any worry in her expression.

“Are you aware that Patrick and I own property in Kips Bay?” 

Confused by the question, Violet nodded her head slowly. What did that have to do with Gia? 

“Yes, has there been some sort of prob-”

“It’s a lovely little building, a restored 20-unit walk-up,” Fame continued like Violet hadn’t spoken at all. “I reserve a portion of the units for Galactica employees whom I consider to be very promising. At reduced rents, of course.” 

“Oh.” Were they moving someone in? Fame had never asked her for help with anything like this before, but Violet was sure she could manage a cleaning crew or hiring a builder or finding an interior designer if that was what Fame needed. 

She moved her pen towards her paper, when Fame dropped the bomb.

“A one-bedroom unit on the top floor has just become vacant, and I’d like to offer it to you.” 

Violet’s eyes widened. Was Fame seriously offering her an apartment?

“The building manager can show you photos and answer any questions you might have. I expect an answer by the end of the day. These apartments don’t remain vacant for long.” 

“Yes, Miss, I- of course, I-” Violet wanted to ask about rent, her gut swirling with emotions.

“If you accept, she can arrange the movers for you as well, likely as early as this weekend if you so choose.” 

Fame slid a card over the table, the name of the building and a phone number on it, and Violet took it. “I-”

“That’s all.” 

Fame’s tone clearly dismissed her, and while Violet had no idea what to do about Fame’s offer, she knew that she had been excused from the office. 

She stood up, clutching the card in her hand, the piece of paper feeling like a golden ticket. Violet raced to her desk, grabbing her phone and dialing the number before the door to Fame’s office had fully closed, Fame watching her with a satisfied smirk on her face. 

***

Pearl was sitting with her computer on her lap, one of her legs up on her desk. Her office had a giant glass panel, but Pearl didn’t mind if her coworkers and employees saw her in positions like this. 

She had nothing to hide from them, and Pearl liked that they could see when she was in, even if it wasn’t always in the most flattering positions.

It was part of her management style since she didn’t care how her people got their job done, it just had to be finished on time.

Pearl was making a note, when she heard a quiet clack of heels, the faint scent of lavender hitting her nose.

“Hello Violet.” Pearl looked over her shoulder, and she was exactly right. Fame’s assistant was standing in the door, looking as stunning as ever.

“What are you watching?”

Violet was wearing a tailored knee length silk dress, small embroidered flowers in light purple sneaking up the skirt. She was holding a thick folder, and Pearl was pretty sure it would contain the show decisions Fame, Raja and Trixie had made earlier in the day. 

“Last year’s ready to wear.” Pearl smiled, holding her hand out so Violet could give her the folder. Their fingers touched briefly, the smallest blush of pink dusting itself over Violet’s cheeks. “Order from the big boss herself.”

Fame had called Pearl, a hint of unease in her voice when she had asked her to comb through the back catalog. Pearl hadn’t seen any reason to, what little she had seen on stage design, music choices and modeling profiles not a direct replica of anything they had done before, but as she was going through their footage, she guessed she could see where Fame’s concern came from, their newest collection fitting almost too perfectly in with their company profile.

“Ah.” Violet bit her lip. “It was a good one. Last year I mean. The use of wool really fit the tailoring.”

Pearl loved listening to Violet talk, although if the black-haired girl was blabbering, it was almost certainly related to fashion. She liked how Violet never raised her voice, how you had to concentrate, look at her, actively pay attention if you wanted to catch everything she was saying.

“I still need to watch the rest of this, and resort.” Pearl smirked, hoping she could win Violet over with her charm. It wasn’t the worst task she’d had, to watch the old shows, but it would be a whole lot more fun with Violet by her side. “There’s champagne in the fridge? If you want to join me?”

“Me?” Violet looked surprised for a moment, and Pearl wondered if she had imagined all the times she could have sworn she had caught Violet blushing when their fingers brushed together. 

“I-” Violet bit her lip, twisting her wrist to look at her watch. 

Pearl was actually worried if she would be rejected, when Violet opened her mouth.

“I actually have to pack.” 

Jackpot. No one said no like that unless they were actually interested. 

“I’m sure it can wait for 30 minutes. This is work as well.”

“It’s private, not work.”

“You’re moving?” Pearl stood up, walking towards her mini fridge. “Where to?”

“A new apartment.”

Pearl waited for Violet to say more, but when nothing came, she couldn’t keep back a laugh, Violet startling at the sudden sound. It was painfully typical of Violet not to offer up any information in casual conversation, but it was also endearingly hilarious.

“Oh Vivi.” Pearl smiled, taking a bottle. “You’re truly one of a kind.”

“Don't call me Vivi.”

Pearl turned around, and she noticed with deep satisfaction that Violet’s cheeks were the loveliest red.

“Let’s toast to your move.” 

“That won’t be necessary-”

“I insist.” Pearl smiled. “Besides, it’d be sad if I drank this bottle alone, and you wouldn’t want me to be sad, would you?”

“I suppose not.” Violet was twisting a strand of her hair, an unsure but happy look in her eyes. It was adorable to see a crack in the normally stoic woman, and Pearl wanted to melt her away. She quickly poured two glasses, handing one to Violet, their fingers touching again.

She knew she was standing unnecessarily close, but she clinked their glasses together, the scent of lavender strong in her nose.

“To new beginnings, Vivi!”


	4. Violet's Move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Violet’s living situation was about to improve, and she got to spend some quality time with Pearl. 
> 
> This Chapter: Fame begins to doubt the new collection, and Violet finally gets into her new apartment--with some surprising new neighbors.

Fame groaned as she finally managed to open the front door to the Galactica floor after fumbling with her keycard for what felt like forever.

The floor was dark, but as Fame walked past the reception desk, the automatic light turned on. 

There was no one there, all of the employees at home since it was barely past 7 am. Fame didn’t usually show up until after 9, having her mornings with Patrick and walking her dog herself an important part of starting her day right, but sometimes Fame preferred the quiet. 

There was a certain peace in an empty office, and she desperately needed the peace. 

She walked down the corridor, passing by the ever-expanding clothing racks that seemed to grow like cockroaches on the hallways, someone always working on something in one of the offices.

Fame was normally not one for contemplation, her heart always telling her where to go, but what she had seen of their own collection yesterday had left a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. 

She had been so happy when they had conceptualized it, had been so excited to see it go into production, but now that she had it, now that Trixie could present piece after piece of physical clothing, Fame had a nagging feeling that it was not good enough, not good enough at all. 

She turned the corner and stopped when she saw that the light was on in her office and the front office where Violet resided. 

As she walked closer, she saw Violet sitting at her desk, steam coming from a takeaway cup and Fame recognized the vanilla scent of her morning order. She had actually wondered how Violet always had a hot cup ready, and it seemed like the clever girl simply ordered multiples every single day.

Violet nibbled on an apple, her feet tucked underneath her as she tapped away on her keyboard, the printer spitting out a chunk of paper every once in a while. 

Before Fame knew it, she had spent several minutes just standing there, observing Violet go about her workday before anyone else had even come in.

Just then, Violet looked up, almost dropping her apple when she saw Fame standing in the door. She jumped up from her chair, and Fame had to hide a smile when she saw that Violet was wearing sneakers with her Prada dress. 

“Miss!” Violet maneuvered around her desk. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you would be here this early.” Fame handed Violet her jacket, the other woman quickly hanging it up.

“Is there any news about my new assistant?” Fame took the coffee from the table. It wasn’t scalding hot like she preferred it, but she wasn’t inclined to wait while her assistant got her another one.

“Yes.” Violet nodded, grabbing a stack of papers from the printer, and Fame realized she had probably been printing resumes. “We should be ready to bring in some candidates by next Tuesday.”

“Good-” Fame held her hand out, taking the stack. “I expect you to pre-interview each and every one of them before I see them.” She wanted a competent assistant, and had no intention of suffering through the first round of the blubbering fools HR always seemed to think would be appropriate for her. “Remember, only perfection is acceptable.”

***

Violet’s eyes were resting on Raja and Fame in the rearview mirror. They were in a town car, Violet instantly climbing into the front with the driver. Violet never spoke unless she was spoken to, her presence in the car only required in case she would be needed.

It was fascinating to watch Raja and Fame interact. They had worked together for so long that it seemed like they knew each other inside and out. It was as if they shared a creative mind, and had an intimate understanding of exactly what the other one was talking about. 

Normally, Violet would be listening in, imagining what her own professional life could maybe be one day, but today, however, Violet was thoroughly distracted.

She was so happy, so relieved, to be moving, that she could almost dance in her seat. Yesterday, when she had been sent the pictures of the vacant apartment, she’d nearly cried with joy. It was beautiful - a small but perfect one-bedroom with a sweet little kitchen, central air, sparkling new bathroom fixtures, and even a French balcony. It was so far beyond anything she’d imagined she might have for years and years. 

The fact that she was going to be packing all night in order to be ready for the movers tomorrow at noon didn’t bother her in the slightest.

Burning bridges was something Violet was used to, and she couldn’t wait to set this one on fire 

“Violet-” Fame’s voice broke through Violet’s daydream of the strongly-worded email she’d send to her landlord. “Violet, have you gone deaf?”

“No Miss. Sorry.”

“I need a pen.”

Violet reached into her bag, Fame acknowledging her only to take it, and then it was back to being invisible as Fame turned her attention to Raja.

This time, however, Violet couldn’t help but listen.

“I realize that you don’t agree-” Fame put the pen to the sketches she and Raja were looking at, “but don’t you think that the lines are too jarring?” Fame did a small correction, the emeralds on her fingers shining in the light. “And this color story, the more I look at it, the more I-”

Violet knew she wasn’t supposed to listen, but she reached into her bag, grabbing her phone, sending a quick left hand text to Trixie.

_Fame worried abt collection dislikes colors v v weird vibe_

It felt like going behind her boss’s back, but Violet knew Fame well enough to pick up on the note in her voice, in the furrow between her brows. 

“Fame, darling,” Raja put a hand on Fame’s knee, her gold bangles clicking together, her tan skin standing out against the creamy white of Fame’s skirt. “You do this to yourself every time,” Raja soothed, her voice surprisingly soft. “It’s all beautiful. We’ll go back to the office, we’ll have a cup of tea, and you’ll see-”

“Don’t patronize me,” Fame snapped, pulling her knee away from Raja’s grasp.

“Don’t act crazy.” Raja rolled her eyes. “I hate to see you stress over something that will be magnificent.”

It seemed like Raja had completely forgotten that Violet was in the car, her ability to make herself invisible once again biting her in the ass since she was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to see this display of affection.

“Bianca would agree that something isn’t right,” Fame huffed slightly, crossing her arms, and Violet stifled a tiny laugh. 

Bianca Del Rio was editor-in-chief of _Marie Claire_ , one of Fame and Raja’s dearest friends, and possibly the scariest person Violet had ever met. Anyone who thought Fame was too tough would probably just wither and die within 30 seconds of being around Bianca. What amused Violet was that her boss treated the infamous hard-ass like she was the sweetest, most adorable person in the universe.

“Well, Bianca doesn’t work here,” Raja countered, adding, “Thank god.” She leaned her head on her hand, a teasing glint in her eyes.

Fame pursed her lips, turning to look out the window, and Raja seemed to change tactics. 

She slung an arm around Fame’s shoulder, her voice sugary sweet. “Why don’t you join us for dinner tonight?” Raja tugged on one of Fame’s golden earrings, the emeralds on it matching her ring. “Raven promised she wouldn’t cook.”

“Thanks,” Fame chuckled, “but no thanks. I promised Patrick I would pay him attention for the first time all week.” 

“Fair enough,” Raja sat back up. “Have a nice night with your husband. Have a few drinks and forget that I exist over the weekend.” Raja smirked. “I have plans of my own anyway.”

***

Bianca rolled over as her phone buzzed on the nightstand, reaching over Derrick’s sleeping form to answer it. The fact that she was still awake, obsessing over the new printing contracts, didn’t change the fact that it was far too late (or too early) for any rational person to be calling.

There were only two people it might be, and she prayed that it wasn’t Adore, because she was not in the mood for whatever shenanigans her baby sister might have gotten herself into this time. Glancing at the screen, she let out a sigh of half relief, half irritation when she saw that it was Fame. And worse, she was FaceTiming. 

“Hey Blondie. What’s wrong?” Bianca answered, voice hoarse. 

“Why would something be wrong?” asked Fame, blue-gray eyes widening innocently. 

“Well, it’s 3 am. So if nothing’s wrong, I’m gonna hang up and we can resume when the sun comes up…” 

“Wait!” Fame said, then furrowed her brow, asking, “Who’s that?”

Bianca glanced at the tousled blonde head beside her. 

“That’s Derrick.” 

“Uh huh, and why haven’t I met her?” 

“We’re not at that point yet,” Bianca told her, tilting the phone down and lifting the covers. “But if you really want, you can meet her ass.” 

Bianca moved the phone closer, flash lighting up Derrick’s ass in a pair of boy-cut red panties. 

“Bianca!” Derrick shrieked, slapping her hand away. “What the fuck?!” 

“Nevermind, her ass isn’t in the mood.”

“Really, Bianca,” Fame clucked. “That poor girl.”

“Ugh!” Derrick moved over, unamused, putting a pillow over her head to block out the noise.

“So, blondie...you gonna tell me what this is about? Cause if not, I should really get to sleep. Rest my weary tongue.” Bianca grinned lasciviously at her, dimples deep in her cheeks. 

After a moment, when she saw that Fame was neither laughing nor giving her a disapproving pout, she sat up, rubbing her eyes. 

“Seriously, Fame. Are you okay?” she asked, voice a bit softer. 

“Yeah...I’m…” Fame sighed slightly, leaning her head on the arm of the sofa. “I just feel a bit...unsettled.” 

“Unsettled about what?” Bianca asked. “Would this by any chance have to do with Fashion Week coming up?” 

“Of course,” Fame said with a slight chuckle. “I should be feeling great. I mean, we’re ahead of schedule, for once, and everyone seems to love the direction, but I just...it feels a bit off.” 

“What does Raja think?” 

“Raja loves it the most, she thinks I’m crazy.” 

“Well. You are. But you also have spot-on creative instincts, so maybe this is a time to trust yourself?” Bianca said. 

“Mmmh.” 

“Okay how’s this...tomorrow morning, once I get rid of Derrick here, I’ll pick up a couple bottles of Veuve and some fresh-squeezed orange juice, head over to your place, and we can spend the whole morning drinking mimosas and ripping the collection to shreds. What do you say?”

“Do I really have to wait until the morning?” 

“Fraid so, blondie. Liquor stores are closed right now,” Bianca laughed. 

“Well then, I say, great plan.” 

“Perfect. So now can I fuckin’ sleep?” Bianca asked, an affectionate smile on her face. 

Fame smiled back, nodding. 

“Thank you, B.” 

“Anytime.” 

***

As Violet closed the door behind her, she couldn’t help but leave out a giant sigh of relief.

The movers had finished in record time, everything going smoother than she had dared to imagine, though she knew a big part of the seamless move was due to her barely owning any furniture.

Violet had never bothered to buy a bedframe for her last apartment, not that there would have been any space for it in the room she had rented anyway, so all she owned was a twin mattress, a sewing table that sometimes served as a desk and a single chair.

What did take up Violet’s space was all of her sewing equipment. The overlocker and sewing machine, who had been her trusted college companions, were sitting on top of her table while her embroidery frame and her mannequins were lying in a pile besides the big garbage bags she used to store her leftover fabric. 

The apartment had a miniature walk-in closet, and Violet couldn’t wait to hang up her clothes, two racks holding all of her pieces. 

Violet fished her work phone out of her bag. She unlocked it, the empty screen causing her to bite her lip. Violet would never prefer to be interrupted during the weekend, but there wasn’t a single text, voice memo or email from Fame. It was strange however, when taken into consideration how anxious she’d seemed the day before, and while Violet had no hard facts to lean against, she was still bracing for a storm.

Violet was pulled out of her thoughts by three hard, quick knocks on her door. She wasn’t expecting anyone, so she opened it curiously to find a grinning Katya and mischievous looking Max, holding a basket full of tea, candles and a pastry Violet couldn’t place, the small cakes glistening with honey.

“Welcome to the building!” Katya exclaimed, flashing those blindingly white teeth. 

“We’re so happy to have you join us,” Max added kindly, holding out the large basket. 

“Umh…” Violet took the basket, too unsure to decide what leg she should stand on. “Hello?”

“Can we come in?” Katya smiled, holding up a flask. “I brought tea!”

“Oh, sure, but I don’t-” Violet wanted to say that she didn’t have a seat for them, but Katya was already making her way inside, Max following right behind her. 

“Trixie would have come too, but he’s a bit in the weeds at the moment.” Katya put her thermos down on Violet’s kitchen counter, apparently not fazed at all by the lack of furniture as she pulled paper cups out of her bag, “tearing his hair out coming up with new ideas in case you’re right about Fame’s freak-out.” 

“Shit-” Violet froze. She had only meant for the text to be helpful, to sooth her own anxiety over the look she had seen on Fame’s face. “I hope I didn’t-” 

“No no, don’t worry.” Katya smiled, taking the basket back and putting that on the table too. “He’d much rather freak out now than when Fashion Week is closer.” Katya put one of the cakes on a little napkin she had pulled up from somewhere. “Medovik? Max?”

“Yes please.” Max smiled, taking the napkin Katya offered.

“Violet?”

“Thank you.” Violet took it, knowing for sure that she wasn’t going to eat all of it, her stomach too tight with worry about Trixie. She bit into it, the taste of honey exploding in her mouth. They all ate together, Katya chatting away while Max walked over to the rack beside her sewing table.

“What’s that?” Max pointed with a finger at a half-open garment bag.

“That?” Violet felt a warm glow spread in her body. “It’s my graduation project.” Violet put down her napkin, a giant smile on her face as she walked over. “Do you want to see it?” Violet touched the bag, the grey plastic crinkling between her fingers.

“Yes please!” Katya smiled brightly, Max nodding excitedly.

Violet pulled the dress out, a whoosh of excitement rushing through her. The dress was a floor length see-through gown, dripping in violet jewels, the glittering pieces covering the breasts and pouring out in an elegant waterfall down the skirt.

“Oh god, it’s gorgeous!” Katya clapped, and Violet nodded.

“I went for a bit of a neo-Victorian take.” Violet touched the shoulders and hips that were jutting out, both supported by beige boning. “I realised it might seem derivative to use violet, but it’s one of my favorite colors-”

“With good reason.” Max had stood up, the man now at Violet’s side as he reached out, gently touching the skirt. 

“I can’t believe you made this.” Katya had joined them as well, the two of them standing side by side.

“I wanted to use real amethysts,” Violet supported the fabric, catching the setting sun in the stones, “but I didn’t have the budget. It was a pain in the ass to stitch all that plastic on.”

“Wait, you did this yourself?” Katya looked shocked. “It’s not prejeweled?”

Violet wanted to snort, or at least huff, the idea that she’d ever use prejeweled fabric actually kind of insulting.

“That must have taken weeks.”

“Believe me, it did.

“Wow.” Katya smiled. “That’s really dedicated. Fame sure is lucky to have you!”

***

“Shit-” Violet muttered under her breath as she tried to grab her keys. She could feel plastic dig into her elbow, her grocery bag heavy with all the things she had purchased.

She had only meant to get some rolled oats and a few emergency boxes of instant mashed potatoes, but when she had actually entered the store, Violet had made the realization that for the first time in her adult life, she had a kitchen that was entirely her own.

“I got it!” Violet heard the beep of the door opening as someone behind her swiped their key fob. She glanced over her shoulder to say thank you, only to bump into the last person she had ever expected to see on an early Sunday morning.

Pearl Liaison was standing right behind her, a surprised expression on her face that probably mirrored Violet’s own. 

Pearl was wearing what was clearly last night’s outfit, her blonde hair collected in a braid down her back, the snow white globes of her small breasts boosted by a black corset.

Violet was frozen in place, shocked, as Pearl moved closer to her, an arm snaking over her shoulder.

“Hey Vivi.” 

Was this real life? Was Pearl about to kiss her? Violet swore she could feel Pearl’s breasts against her own, their bodies touching.

But instead of a kiss, the blonde grabbed the door handle and pushed, tossing Violet an airy smile and gesturing for her to enter.

“Ladies first,” she said. 

Still stunned, Violet let out an embarrassed scoff, saying, “You’re a lady, too.”

“Debatable,” Pearl replied with a grin, following her into the lobby. “So…I wondered if you’d be joining us here. When did you move in?”

“Yesterday.” Violet bit her lip.

“Ah. Awesome.” Pearl smirked. Violet swore she could feel Pearl’s eyes on her body, the woman smelling of tequila and cigarettes, the scent of sex lingering just underneath.

She lowered her eyes as Pearl brushed by her to climb the stairs, needing a moment to catch her breath. She tried to keep it together as last night’s skirt clung to Pearl’s ass. Before she disappeared around the corner, Pearl turned back to give Violet another cheeky grin. 

“See you around, pumpkin.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Violet gave Trixie a heads-up about Fame’s dislike of the new collection, and moved into her new apartment--where she found some very welcoming neighbors. 
> 
> This Chapter: All hands on deck as Fame demands a complete reconceptualization of their Spring collection. 

Fame swept into the office on Monday, all business, barely looking Violet in the eye as she rattled off a waterfall of orders. 

Fame pulled off her coat and dropped it, nearly letting it fall on the floor before Violet dove forward to catch it. 

“Have you taken care of the messages I left you over the weekend?”

Fame seemed almost frantic, her energy all over the place. 

“I’m almost done Miss,” Violet folded her coat over her arm, holding out her hand for Fame’s bag. “I just need to confirm wit-”

“Good.” Fame hung her bag on Violet’s wrist, the weight almost toppling Violet over if it hadn’t been for her hours at the gym. “Have you ordered the new fabrics I talked about?”

Violet nodded. “They are on their wa-”

“And what about my new assistant?” 

“Yes-” Violet reached for her desk, a stack of resumes already printed out. “I’m starting the pre-interviews tomorrow-” 

“Wonderful.” Fame completely ignored Violet and the papers she was holding out, instead walking towards her office. Violet quickly disposed of Fame’s coat and bag, putting both down on her desk so she could grab Fame’s coffee and the letters for the day before she followed her.

“Remember, only perfection is accepted,” Fame instructed, settling down at her desk.

“Yes, Miss.” Violet handed her the coffee, which Fame took a single sip of before she scrunched her nose and handed it back to Violet.

“I’d like a new latte and a medium fruit salad, no pineapple.”

“Yes Miss.”

“Is that the schedule for the day?” 

Violet nodded and handed her the paper.

“Also, before you go. Get Raja up here. I need to discuss the collection. That’s all,” Fame said, turning to her computer. 

It wasn’t for a few minutes that Violet realized how serious Fame was about the collection change. She was standing in line at the coffee shop, checking her email, when she saw that Fame had sent one to the entire senior management team.

_Subject: URGENT_

_All hands on deck meeting at 3 pm today to discuss a complete re-conceptualization of our Spring collection. Bring your best ideas, ready to discuss, along with samples and visual aids. Be prepared to work late._

Violet gulped, forwarding the email to all of the applicable assistants, when another one ticked in.

_Subject: Violet - Get me Pearl_

***

“This is interesting, try to get a sample of the skirt done ASAP and then spruce up the sketch,” Trixie said. 

Trixie had been walking around the busy design floor, checking out what his team had come up with over the weekend. Ever since getting Violet’s text last Friday, he had a sinking feeling in his stomach that Fame was about to bring down a hammer, and so they needed to be prepared with new ideas. 

Half of the team was working on changes and additions to their current collection. Half of them were working on entirely new concepts and ideas. 

‘ _Remember guys_ ,’ he’d said before they left on Friday. ‘ _This is a spaghetti against the wall situation. No bad ideas, time to explore everything. If it’s unique and innovative, that’s a plus. Pull out your passion projects._ ’

The truth was, Trixie had no idea what to expect. Fame had been silent all weekend, which made him even more nervous. Usually she’d send at least a few texts or emails. Ideas that popped into her head. A doodle on a notepad. Image references. But now, when she was allegedly questioning their whole collection? Nada. 

Trixie walked over to where April was draping out an ornate sample dress in multiple shades of blue, telling her to carry on. Then he moved on to Alexis, scrutinizing the sketches on her desk with a critical eye. 

“Some of these shapes are interesting, but I need you to redo them with different colors and fabrics,” he told her. “Remember, the color story is apparently the thing she’s most ambivalent about.”

“Got it,” Alexis said with a good-natured sigh, picking up a fresh pad. 

“Um, Trixie?” Kandy looked up, a terrified look on her face as she hung up the phone. 

“Yes?” 

“Raja says to check your emails, don’t panic, and that she’s coming down to fill you in,” Kandy said. 

Trixie pulled out his phone, stomach lurching as he read the email from Miss Fame, face going pale. 

His worst fear had just come true: they were facing a complete reconceptualization. He looked up, forcing a smile in order to not terrify the design team even more. 

“Okay,” he said, attempting to keep his voice light. “New plan...Blu, Jovan, Gia? Forget about the adjustments you were working on. We’re looking for fresh ideas, anything that you think could be a new signature piece. Everyone: the deadline is today at 3 pm.” 

A small gasp rippled through the team as they realized how soon that was. 

“Three pm?” Blu asked, the Irish designer looking like she might burst into tears. 

“Yeah.” Trixie scanned the room again, hating the anxiety that he saw on everyone’s face, which he knew full well was not conducive to innovation. “And try to have fun. Remember, this is fashion, not heart surgery. No one’s gonna die.” 

“We might die,” Jovan muttered under his breath, ripping his current piece out of a sewing machine and tossing it onto the ground.

“It’ll be okay,” Trixie put a hand on Jovan’s shoulder. He was his oddest worker, the wrinkly brain he had coming up with the most beautiful, crazy, intricate ideas when he was left to his own devices. “I promise.” Trixie squeezed, trying to put as much conviction behind his words as he could. “Just do your best.”

***

Pearl had just settled into her chair, ready to see if anything exciting had happened on Twitter while she had been by the design department to give Trixie his lunch. 

It wasn’t something she normally did, but Katya had been near heartbroken when she saw that Trixie had forgotten the lunchbox she had made him that morning, and since Pearl was a pretty damn good roommate in her own opinion, she had volunteered to deliver it.

Katya had given her a kiss and a hug as thanks before she hurried out the door, two tote bags and canvas under both arms. If Pearl didn’t love her so much, she’d be almost disgusted with how good of a human being Katya was, spending her summer as a volunteer art teacher at a community center in the Bronx.

Her beating heart was however also the reason that Pearl hadn’t been kicked out of the apartment she shared with her Trixie when he and Katya had started dating, so who was she to complain?

A polite cough came from the door just as Pearl was catching up on Olivier Rousteing’s Instagram. She turned around and came face to face with Violet.

Pearl smiled; it was always a joy to see Violet, the other always a sight for sore eyes with her almost impeccable beauty.

It was always fun to see what Violet would wear, the woman almost vintage in her style. 

“Is that Gabbana?”

“Of course it’s Gabbana” Violet smoothed down her skirt, and Pearl smiled. She was the only person who Pearl knew that could wear a button up, and still look like someone begging to get fucked.

“You’re late.”

“Am I?” Pearl smirked. Violet was fun to rile up, but Fame was her favorite, one of her very best days at work happening because she had agitated her boss on purpose. 

“Is this about the collection? Trixie told me Fame has officially freaked.”

Violet didn’t say anything, and Pearl almost wanted to roll her eyes.

“I’ll take that silence as a yes.” 

Violet was an annoyingly good assistant, never saying a word against Fame, always holding her tongue even when it would have been more than fair to complain.

“She wants you in her office in 10.”

“So I’m not actually late?” Pearl turned around to her iMac, seeing that the small email icon on her screen was blinking red. “Ah.” 

Pearl realized that Violet had just saved her from Fame’s disappointment, but there was no way she was going to let the other know of her gratitude. 

It was too early in the game for that. 

“Sorry for helping you.” Violet huffed, rolling her eyes. “Here-” Violet put a folder down on Pearl’s desk. “In case you want to actually prepare-”

“Thanks Vivi.”

“Don’t call me that.”

***

“Shit.” Trixie exhaled a groan of frustration as he dumped down in his chair. He had known the email was coming, but it had still felt like a punch to the gut when he’d actually seen it.

Raja had come straight from a meeting with Fame, and Trixie had known it was bad, real bad, when he had seen how Raja’s normally ice cold exterior was chipped.

Trixie sighed, burrowing his head in his hands for a minute. He hated having to push his designers, hated forcing them to deliver in extreme conditions. A few of them thrived on it, Betty always delivering excellent work, while Aiden almost always buckled when he didn’t have time to pay attention to his details.

Trixie reached into his mini-fridge, taking the lunch Pearl had stopped by to drop off for him. It was only 10:30, but he unpacked it anyway. Katya had packed two pieces of carrot cake, a can of diet coke and as Trixie opened the metal container, the lovely smell of Katya’s best mushroom and cheese blinis greeted him. 

He opened his drawer, pulling out a fork as he turned his computer on, the promise of carrot cake the only thing getting him through the avalanche of worried emails he knew was waiting for him.

***

Raja heaved a sigh as she stepped off the elevator. She’d been trying to give Trixie a warning about Fame’s current state of mind without causing the EVP of Design to freak out, but couldn’t shake the notion that she’d failed, seeing the crease in his forehead deepen the more she spoke, until she’d finally just left him with a firm pat on the back. She entered her own suite, the rich fabrics and warm colors immediately soothing her, although her relief was short-lived, since Jaida was perched on Ivy’s desk, a stern look on her face. 

“I need to talk to you.” 

Jaida was the most recent addition to their management team. The bright, resourceful CFO joined them almost two years ago, when Patrick stepped away from the day to day financial management to focus on his own firm. She’d truly been a godsend—immediately understanding the need for creative flexibility in their budgets, and helping to streamline the company’s organization in a way that was incredibly effective even as they grew by leaps and bounds. 

But now, Jaida’s beautiful face was about the last one that Raja wanted to see. She was well-aware that Fame’s email had caused mass panic, and Jaida’s mind was probably already spinning in 100 different directions, thinking about how their timelines would now completely change the budget for Fashion Week beyond the normal contingency plan. 

Raja gestured to her office, resigned to have this conversation now, and Jaida immediately sailed in, settling on the forest green velvet couch that Raven had picked out. Raja turned to Ivy, requesting some herbal tea, before joining her. 

“So, Jaida, what are you brightening my day with?”

“An entire reconceptualization, Raja?”

“I’m aware that-”

“Has she completely lost it? Can’t you talk to her?” Jaida implored. 

“Fame has made up her mind.” 

“Ughhh!” Jaida’s hand fell into her hands. 

“What a mature response-”

Raja was cut off when Shangela burst into the office. One of their longest and most loyal employees, the Director of Operations usually never panicked, taking on every challenge with an almost annoying amount of enthusiastic joy. 

It was possible, Raja supposed, that she was extra annoyed by Shangela because of their failed relationship, but she liked to tell herself that that was besides the point.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” Shangela exclaimed, taking a seat across from Jaida. 

“I was stalking Ms. Gemini here.” Jaida pointed with her thumb.

“Shangela, you’re in my office-” Raja began.

“Listen. I just want to make sure everyone understands the situation at hand. Bendela is already asking to double the staff in the tailoring department through September, and Alyssa says that this is going to potentially triple the budget for the media campaigns, and-”

“I know! It’s a shit show!” Jaida exclaimed. 

Raja closed her eyes. Where the fuck was Ivy with her tea? 

“I hear your concerns, however, we haven’t even had the creative meeting yet, so don’t you think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves?” 

“But Bendela says-”

“Of course she does, Shangela.” Raja sighed. Shangela was always so dramatic, but she was irritatingly good at her job.

“Bendela’s been requesting to hire more tailors for months now. That doesn’t mean that her estimate is accurate and if she truly sticks to her guns, Trixie just interviewed potential interns. I’m sure some of them can be assigned to tailoring.” 

Ivy pushed her way through the door, a tray with coffee and tea for everyone in her hands.

“Right, okay, but what about-” 

“We’re going to get through today, listen to what Fame has to say, what ideas everyone comes up with, and then reconvene tomorrow morning,” Raja said, gratefully accepting the tea that Ivy handed over. 

“Fine,” Jaida said. “But if I were you, I’d convince Miss Fame that the current collection is brilliant.”

“You don’t think I tried that?” Raja laughed. 

“Fair enough,” Jaida replied, finally letting a small giggle escape. 

“Another day in paradise,” Shangela added, rising up from the couch. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Fame’s email about a collection reconceptualization had everyone in a panic. 
> 
> This Chapter: Pearl does her boss a solid, and then the dreaded meeting occurs...

Pearl Liaison wasn’t a genius, but it didn’t take one to figure out that today would be a rough one.

The company was in quiet chaos, everyone trying their absolute best not to alert their superiors that they were freaking out, her own staff included, but Pearl could see it on them easily.

Pearl had spent the morning putting together a deck of research based on current trends, her and Trixie emailing back and forth as her best friend tried to keep his department under control. By the time she handed the flash drive to one of the marketing interns to print out, it was almost 1.

Pearl could have gone to the cafeteria, but instead, she skipped out and took a trip to Max’s studio. The Brit wasn’t in, but Pearl unlocked the door, walking past all the equipment and out onto the small rooftop terrace that was connected to Max’s workspace for the instances when he needed natural light.

Pearl dumped down, lighting a cigarette, and closed her eyes, the late summer sun shining down on her.

She felt her phone buzz, messages ticking in one after the other.

_ My office now _

_ Please _

_ Hello? _

_ Pearl why are you not answering your messages?  _

Pearl smiled and rolled her eyes. She texted a quick ‘on my way’ as well as a winky face as she got up, popping a piece of gum before she made her way back into the building.

Violet was gone from her desk when Pearl got back to Fame’s office—the woman no doubt setting up the same meticulous way she normally did. Pearl sauntered into Fame’s office, a smirk on her face as she closed the door behind her. 

“Finally,” Fame said, a bit of a testy edge to her voice. She was sitting behind her desk, and Pearl could see from the pink of her lip that she had been chewing it. “I’ve been calling Patrick, but his assistant says he’s unavailable because they’re going over the settlements for the month, can you believe-”

“A pleasure to see you too.” Pearl locked the door. “So, I assume this isn’t another official meeting?”

Fame sighed, a little crease appearing between her eyes.

“Fame? Pearl asked, a bit more gently. “Are you okay?”

“No, of course I’m not okay.” Fame leaned back in her chair, groaning. “We’re about to re-do the whole collection, start from scratch, and what if it’s a disaster?” 

“No one is forcing you to change anything-”

Pearl was cut off as Fame raised a perfect brow.

“All I’m saying is that we could just use the collection that you approved last week.” 

“I know we could, but it’s not  _ good _ enough. It needs to be transcendent.” 

Pearl gazed intently at her, blue eyes taking in her beloved boss—unable to understand why she always put such tremendous pressure on herself, but admiring her all the same. 

“Anything I can do for you, Miss?” Pearl asked, adding the sleepy drawl to her voice that she knew Fame adored. 

“Please,” Fame pushed away from her desk with her bare foot, and she realized that she hadn’t even seen when she had slipped out of her shoes. 

Pearl’s mouth turned up in a lopsided grin, walking forward and sinking to the floor. 

“Hello.” She dropped a light kiss inside Fame’s knee. Fame’s skin was always perfectly smooth, always a little cold to the touch, and her smell was intoxicating.

Fame lifted her hips slightly, allowing Pearl to reach under her skirt and pull her panties off, spread her thighs. She ran her hands through Pearl’s hair, tangling her fingers into the unruly blonde tresses and then pulling her forward. 

Pearl pushed her skirt up, letting her fingers graze over Fame’s pussy until her breath hitched. Her mouth moved to Fame’s inner thigh, placing a soft butterfly kiss against her, feeling fists tighten in her hair. 

“Will you hurry  _ up? _ The meeting is in fifteen minutes.” Fame punctuated her statement with a sharp tug on Pearl’s hair, causing her to giggle. 

“Yes, Miss.” 

Pearl suppressed her urge to torment her with soft, gentle kitten licks until she squirmed in pain, and got down to business. Her tongue swirled around Fame’s swollen clit, humming lightly, enjoying the dizzying pressure of Fame’s thighs against her ears. She reached up, hands slipping under Fame’s blouse to find the soft lace of her bra, pinching her nipples, making her gasp with pleasure. 

It took a shockingly short amount of time before Fame was on the edge, biting on her fist to keep quiet as Pearl’s tongue worked its magic. She clasped Pearl’s hands to her chest, aching with need as she tried to push the girl’s hand down. 

“Fingers, please,” Fame choked out, and Pearl complied immediately, sliding two fingers easily inside her, curling forward just so, pausing for a moment to look up at her, gray eyes dark and liquid, before stroking her from the inside. 

Fame fucked down against her fingers, heart racing, body tight like a coiled spring. And when Pearl began to suck on her clit, the vice grip she had on her hair tightened even more, her other hand covering her mouth as she did her best to stifle her moans. 

She came hard against Pearl’s face, giving her a surge of pride, tongue continuing to swirl until she whimpered in pain. 

Collapsing back against her chair with a deep sigh, Fame took Pearl’s face into her hands, tilting her chin up, admiring her own glistening mess for a few moments before handing her a tissue. 

“You should go clean up. The meeting’s starting in five minutes,” she told her affectionately. 

“Maybe it’ll even start a few minutes late?” Pearl asked, laying a cheek against her thigh. “Give me a chance to grab the decks from my office?” 

“Are you asking me for special favors?” Fame said, feigning shock with a hand pressed to her chest.

“Sorry, Miss. It won’t happen again, Miss,” Pearl said with a sparkle in her eye, rising to her feet. 

“Although, you know, it’s possible for me to be slightly delayed, I suppose.”

Pearl laughed and pressed a kiss to her forehead, giving her a cheeky wink as she left the office. 

***

Luckily, Fame wasn’t the first one to arrive in the boardroom, Trixie was. 

Violet hated meetings where Fame didn’t follow her schedule because Fame was always on time, everyone else was simply too late or too early.

Trixie had brought two stuffed rolling racks filled with sample pieces from the design department, and armfuls of sample cards with different fabrics.

He had smiled gratefully when Violet had come to help him, the two of them quickly spreading out the best of their current collection so everyone would have a chance to share their input.

What little hair Trixie had was sticking out in all directions, his hand running through it again and again in what Violet could only assume was frustration.

“Are you okay?” Violet wasn’t generally one to ask how others were doing, but Trixie was a kind man, and it seemed like he needed the support.

“My entire department is in a panic.” Trixie groaned, “but it could have been a lot worse. Without you, and without your warning, we would have been seriously screwed.”

He sat down, crossing his arms. 

“Who gives a six hour deadline for an alleged complete collection change, anyway?”

Violet bit her lip. She didn’t like going behind Fame’s back, but the look of extreme gratitude in Trixie’s eyes had convinced Violet she had done the right thing for the company, even if she had betrayed Fame’s trust.

The next one to come in was Alaska, who waved at Violet with a smile on her face, followed by Raja and Alyssa who were deep in conversation, while Pearl strolled in as the last one in an entirely new outfit from when Violet had seen her earlier that same day. 

Violet quickly took her spot in the corner, the role of an assistant to disappear whenever she was not spoken to. 

Fame would be there any minute, and Violet was fiddling with the bottom of her dress, absent-mindedly tugging on a small piece of thread.

It was one of her worst habits, nervous energy always settling over her like a suffocating blanket, and Violet couldn’t help but do something, anything, with herself to distract from the feelings she had inside.

At last, Fame arrived, closing the door behind her. “Where are my sketches, Violet?”

Everyone turned to Violet, and she wished the earth would swallow her up. “Right here Miss!”

Violet grabbed the big folder she had forgotten on the drinks table, taking two long steps to give it to her boss.

Fame had given Violet a stack of sketches after her meeting with Raja, the stroke of the pencil absolutely Fame’s, and Violet couldn’t believe that she had been lucky enough to see an original sketch for her bosses hand, Fame barely ever drawing anymore.

“Did you copy these?”

“Yes Miss.”

“Divide them.” Fame snapped the folder closed. “That’s all.”

Violet nodded, quickly doing as she was asked. She stood for a moment, her eyes meeting Raja’s, and with a short nod from her.

Violet had never been so happy to be sent on a coffee run, but as the editors buckled down, she couldn’t wait to escape the room.

***

“And see this color?” Fame held up a shirt, showing it off to the boardroom. “In the sketches, it was youthful and an interesting statement, but with this lace it looks like we’re catering to age fetishes. The Galactica customer is an adult woman who has her life together.” 

Pearl sighed. They’d been at it for hours. Going through the collection piece by piece, Fame happily tearing most of it to shreds, only a dress made by April and two jackets from Betty surviving into the “maybe” pile. 

“I don’t  _ hate _ this skirt...“

Pearl drummed her pencil against the table. It wasn’t that she disliked these meetings, wasn’t that she didn’t like watching a good panic, but she was both frustrated and bored, and Violet wasn’t even there for her to look at or flirt with.

“But the print just isn’t right,” Fame sighed, “This isn’t it.”

“One of our vendors in Italy sent us this floral fabric-” Trixie reached over the table, grabbing one of the sample cards that Gia had come up with.

“Florals,” Fame raised a brow. “For spring? Groundbreaking.”

Pearl bit her lip. She could see the genuine hurt on Trixie’s face, could see how he got burned by Fame’s quick and harsh dismissal of his idea.

“Anyone have a different suggestion?”

No one said anything, and Pearl couldn’t blame them—after all, most of the suggestions anyone  _ had _ made so far had been immediately shot down. And Fame’s catlike eyes scanned the room, poised to pounce on anyone who dared to open their mouths.

“Did anybody come to work today? All I ask for is staff who know how to deliver, and so far all I see is unwearable prints and tired, reductive suggestions.”

Raja coughed, stopping Fame from going off completely.

“All I ask for is a little bit of some extraordinary brilliance.”

Pearl sighed. She loved Fame, she did, but it was borderline psychotic to ask for brilliance.

“I want something fresh, something different, something—” Fame waved her hand. “We’re not being  _ innovative _ enough.”

Pearl picked up Fame’s sketches, leafing through them slowly as Raja started speaking, everyone else immediately listening to the authority in her voice. 

“Maybe we should go the Victorian route,” Pearl suggested, looking up at Fame questioningly. 

“Did you hit your pretty head? I asked for innovation.”

“Wait a second,” Trixie said, jumping up and pawing through the rolling rack of new, proposed looks. He began to pull out a few pieces, tossing them onto the table. 

“The aesthetic is coming back, I swear,” Pearl said. “At least among the fashion students.”

“So what do you suggest? Long sleeves and sexy ankles?” Raja asked. 

“Long sleeves, high necks, knee length skirts. If we focus on materials like chiffon, silk and lace we could meet the aesthetic.” Pearl knew that this idea might very well get shot down, like all the others, but she was determined to at least give it a fair shake. 

“Look,” Trixie said, holding up the pieces he’d found. “Imagine this skirt, but with the hem dropped 4 inches? Or this jacket, but over a high-necked chiffon blouse. Or this pant...it seems like the Victorian idea is already on the designers’ minds. Pearl is definitely onto something.” 

He’d seemed to perk up considerably at the idea, grabbing a pencil to make a few quick sketches. 

“It wouldn’t be the same old Victorian stuff we always see. It would just be like, using the Victorian lines and detailing in a modern way.” 

“Let our customers look and feel the part of prudish power,” Pearl enthused, wiggling her brow. 

“I don’t hate it,” Raja said, and everyone at the table looked at Fame, waiting with baited breath to see what their CEO would say. 

After an excruciating pause, she finally said, “I don’t either.”

A huge sigh of relief rippled through the boardroom, but it was short lived, Fame making sure they knew that they weren’t done. 

“But we need a new color story,” she said. “Something that sets it apart.”

“We have this pink fabric on—” Trixie picked up one of the sample cards, only to have Fame immediately shake her head.

“We used that same pink two years ago, Trixie,” she sighed. “Just when I started to think that maybe your brain had finally joined us, there it went. Out the window.” 

Trixie closed his mouth, dejection written all over his face. 

Raja sorted through the sample cards, pulling one out and drawing on it. 

“If we go to the jungle, use some gold, I think we could be onto something with this palette.” Raja held up the card, mostly rich greens with pops of gold and a smattering of other colors. 

“What’s that?” Fame asked, looking at her sketch. 

“A Melati Putih. Indonesia’s national flower. It’s cream-colored with vibrant green leaves.”

“It’s beautiful,” Fame stated, looking almost disappointed at her inability to find anything wrong with the suggestion.

“Trixie, can you do something with this?” Raja asked, a note of uncharacteristic kindness in her voice.

Trixie nodded, taking Raja’s sketch, already searching on his tablet for pictures of the flower. 

“Alright…” Fame said slowly. “I suppose that’s an interesting direction...” 

“Thank fucking Christ,” Pearl muttered, biting her lip when she realized that she’d accidentally said it out loud. 

Fame looked at her sharply. “Really, Pearl.” 

“I mean...it’s just so great that you’re happy, Miss,” Pearl said with a flutter of lashes. 

“I don’t want anyone to think that this is the end of the discussion. Trixie, I’m giving your team two days to work with this new concept and then we’ll have a presentation on Thursday morning. Think big, bold, exciting. Alaska, work closely with Trixie’s team and make sure we’re coming up with at least 3 new eyeshadow palettes that compliment the color story. Alyssa and Pearl, pull together as many Victorian-styled campaigns as you possibly can. I expect comprehensive pitches for the new campaign from you both on Monday next week, including labeling and artwork for the makeup line, once we have a clearer idea of how the clothes look. And all of you will be expected to give a full report of your new budgetary needs to Jaida by Friday, including where you can cut to make up for the expedited timeline.” 

Everyone nodded, noting down their individual instructions.

“...But for now,” Fame continued, “I guess you’re dismissed.” 

***

“Violet girl, you don’t know how much I love you right now.”

Violet laughed. She had returned right after the meeting had ended to clean everything up and collect what Fame had approved and would need.

“It couldn’t have been that bad. Fame was smiling when she came into her office.”

“Oh, it was that bad, I swear I nearly shat my pants several times over. Who does that to people on a Monday?”

Violet giggled. Trixie was being dramatic, but Violet knew how much Fame valued him.

“You definitely saved my life, but most importantly my sanity. If she wasn’t so brilliant, I’d hate it when she changed her mind, but because of the results, it’s almost worth the shitstains.”

***

“Cheers!” Violet yelled, lifting her glass and gesturing to the people who were sitting around the table. Alaska, Max, Kim, Shangela, Jaida, Katya, Trixie and Pearl were all there, and Violet was on her third gin and tonic, feeling amazing. 

Pearl had insisted that everyone had to go out and celebrate the fact that they were still alive. 

Violet had wanted to go home, but Pearl had touched her arm and asked her to come, and she couldn’t say no. 

The rumor that the design department was going out for drinks had spread throughout Galactica and the bar was filled with their coworkers. Violet had never expected that a bar could be this full on a Monday night, but the rumor of a Galactica party had traveled through the city, and now everyone who tried to be anything was there.

“To Violet!” Trixie said, a smile on his face.

“To Violet!” Everyone else agreed, glasses clicking as all of them drank. 

“I-” Violet could feel herself blush. “Thank you-”

“Come dance with me!” Katya smiled, and Violet couldn’t resist as the blonde Russian dragged her towards the dance floor.

Katya was a fabulous dancer, completely unashamed of herself even as she made moves that had Violet doubling over in laughter. Violet and Katya had attempted vogue-ing, which had released one of the hyena laughs from the blonde that Violet was becoming addicted to, making the night even more perfect. Trixie came out, joining Katya in what could only be described as a dance-off between idiots. Violet retreated a little, letting the music decide how she danced, sipping her drink and swaying to the beat by herself.

It still felt strange to dance, still felt weird to let the music guide her without any rules, without someone looking at her, but she was getting better, less and less alcohol needed every time she gave herself over.

Pearl came over, her arms sneaking around Violet’s middle, and they had danced together, the music deciding the rhythm of their hips.

She knew she was into Pearl, had been since the first time they met, but lately she had felt something shift between them, Pearl paying her more attention than she ever had before.

“You’re beautiful, Violet.” Pearl smiled, and Violet could smell the rum on her breath, their faces so close together, their dancing making her wetter than she had been in years.

“Thank you.”

Pearl laughed, pulling Violet even closer, a hand on her hip. She could feel her breath against her face, the two of them so closely together. 

Pearl reached up, pushing a bit of Violet’s hair behind her ear, and then, they were kissing.

Violet felt her stomach burst with fireworks, her fingers twitching. Pearl was an amazing kisser, her lipstick sticky in the sexiest way, her grip on Violet’s hip tightening.

Pearl had complete control of the kiss, and Violet wanted to disappear into her forever.

They pulled apart, Pearl’s blue eyes filled with mischief, and Violet felt a rush of heat at the sight of her lipstick smeared all over Pearl’s face.

“Hey-” Pearl smirked, clearly leaning in for another kiss, and Violet wanted to lean in, she did, she really did, but then, Violet felt her hand move on it’s own, pushing on Pearl’s shoulder, her mouth opening without her consent.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: The team scrambled to come up with ideas for the new Spring collection that would please their illustrious leader, and when they were out celebrating after the meeting, Pearl got a little too close for Violet’s comfort. 
> 
> This Chapter: Violet makes a new friend, wakes up in a very compromising position, and deals with a massive hangover.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Violet whispered to herself, reapplying her lipstick, making sure her lip liner was perfect even as her hand was shaking a little. Violet could hear her work phone, the familiar ringtone that meant Pearl was calling her.

She wanted to take it, wanted to accept the adventure Pearl was promising her, but Violet had hooked up with coworkers before, and that was a mistake she wasn’t eager to repeat.

Violet was drunk, and confused, this entire thing not at all what she had hoped and dreamed of for her and Pearl’s first kiss.

Besides the fact that they worked together, that Pearl was her friend, that she was one of the few human beings Violet actually genuinely liked, at the end of the day, Pearl was a player.

Everyone in the fashion world knew that. 

There was not a lesbian or bisexual woman in the New York Fashion industry that didn’t have some kind of story about Pearl, Violet having listened to her fair share at parties, and she would never want to become one of those.

Their friendship was too important to her for that to happen.  _ Stupid stupid stupid. _

A gorgeous blonde girl stumbled out from the bathroom stall, humming to herself as she washed her hands. The blonde watched Violet apply her lipstick with rapt attention, then smiled, a thick Australian accent leaving her mouth.

“Wow…How do you do that? Your makeup looks like…sooo good.”

“Thank you?” Violet would normally be a little weirded out by this kind of attention from a stranger, but the girl was so beautiful and earnest that she only smiled back. 

“I can’t wear red lipstick, but on you it’s...perrrfect,” she slurred. 

“Everyone can wear red lipstick,” Violet stated. 

“You think? Should I try it?” she asked, eyes lighting up gleefully. 

“Umh…” Violet looked down at the lipstick in her hands. “Sure.” 

But when the girl wobbled a little in her heels stepping forward, Violet had second thoughts--she was a little buzzed herself, but that girl looked far too drunk to do makeup on her own. It would likely end up all over her face if she tried. 

“Know what. Let me help you,” Violet offered kindly.

“Oh wow, are you my fairy godmother?” she squealed, climbing up onto the counter.

Violet laughed at the other’s words, immediately feeling the kind of connection only two very drunk girls could.

“Maybe I am,” Violet giggled, as she began applying lipstick--not an easy task, given the blonde’s bubbly chatter, telling her all about how she normally only wore chapstick and mascara and wished she knew how to do winged eyeliner like Violet’s but could just never get the hang of it. But soon, Violet had done a satisfactory job, and leaned back to admire her work. If that girl was beautiful before, now she was absolutely stunning. “Um, whoever told you that you shouldn’t wear red lipstick should be killed.” 

“Does it look good?!” the blonde asked excitedly, turning around to look in the mirror. 

“You look gorgeous. Like, so pretty I can’t even deal with it,” Violet said nodding emphatically and realizing that she was maybe a little drunker than she previously thought. She certainly didn’t bond this much with strangers under normal circumstances. Of course, most strangers weren’t beautiful, charming blondes with adorable accents.

Shit, she really had a type when it came to girls.

“I love it! Thank you so much, fairy godmother!” she said, green eyes sparkling with joy. She turned back around and threw her arms around Violet’s neck. 

Suddenly, the door burst open, startling them both. 

“Courtney! There you are! You need to come back to the dance floor, bitch!” said a vaguely familiar voice. Violet turned around, trying to figure out where she knew the voice from.

“Adoooore! I’m getting my makeup done. Do you like it?” The blonde girl, now identified as Courtney, giggled, arms still around Violet, a huge smile on her face. 

Adore? Realization suddenly dawned as Violet placed the face and voice. 

Of course. 

Adore was Bianca Del Rio’s little sister, and therefore someone Fame included in her close circle of friends. A musician of some kind and known party girl. And, if Violet was correct, she also knew Pearl somehow. It all made sense--what a small world.

Adore seemed to recognize Violet at the same time, big blue eyes widening with joy. 

“Hey! It’s you! Violet, right?” 

“Yeah, hi.” Violet smiled a bit shyly at her. She didn’t know Adore very well, but her closeness to Fame made Violet feel mildly self-conscious. Adore didn’t seem to have the same problem, throwing her arms around Violet as if they were best friends. 

“Court, this is Violet. She works for Fame at Galactica.” 

Courtney’s eyes bulged, and she clapped her hands together excitedly. 

“She does?! Omigod how  _ perfect! _ I just applied for a job as her assistant!” Courtney said. 

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me, bitch?” Adore demanded. “You know that Fame is practically like family.” 

“Well, I applied for like 50 jobs this week; I just need anything that’ll let me stay. But I didn’t think I’d have any chance. I don’t have a lot of experience and I’m sure a million people applied. It’s  _ Galactica _ .” 

“So what?! You don’t need experience, you can do anything!” Adore turned to Violet, grasping her by the hand. “Violet, you need to help my girl get an interview. She’s amazing. She’s the most responsible person I know, and a really hard worker, and so smart.” 

“Awww, bunny!” Courtney cooed, slinging an arm around Adore’s waist. 

“Plus she really needs a job so that she can get a work visa.” 

“Yeah, I don’t wanna be deported,” Courtney added solemnly. 

“I know it’s kind of a weird problem for a white person to have, but there you go. And America is just soooo much better with her here.” 

Adore buried her face into Courtney’s shoulder, hugging her tightly. 

“Well, I’m looking over the résumés for the new assistant position. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll totally put yours at the top of the pile.” Violet found her drink on the counter and was just about to take a sip when Courtney jumped down, bouncing up and down excitedly.

“I swear I love you… Like I really honestly love you. I don’t remember your name just this second but you’re going in my gratitude journal, no, no, don’t laugh! And when I remember your name, I’m going to give it to my firstborn child!!” Courtney squealed, wrapping Violet in a neck-popping hug while hopping around in place.

“This is so beautiful,” Adore said. “I don’t know about you two hotties, but I’m ready to drink and dance some more, so the next round is on me! Let’s goooo!” 

Violet let her new best friends drag her back out into the club and towards the bar, giggling the whole way. 

***

“We gotta go, bunny,” Adore said, causing Courtney to whine. 

“Nooo, I wanna dance some more,” she slurred, arms wrapped around Violet’s shoulders. “Me an’ Violet wanna dance.” 

“I know, but Violet has to go home, too. Right?” Adore exchanged a look with Pearl, trying to extricate her friend from Violet, who swayed a bit in her heels, giggling and hiccuping. “Sorry, this one can’t hold her liquor for shit.”

Pearl laughed, putting her arms around Violet’s waist and pulling her gently from her new best friend. 

“Seems that way,” she said. 

“Say goodnight, Courtney,” Adore said. 

“Goodnight, Courtney,” echoed the blonde sadly, looking over her shoulder with one final wave, then stumbling, nearly pulling Adore to the ground in the process. “Oops.” 

Violet watched them, still giggling to herself, then allowed Pearl to guide her outside towards a row of taxis. 

Pearl had never seen her hammered like this. Violet was a giggly, blushing, cuddly mess, and she had never been more adorable.

They were nearly inside the cab when Violet’s eyes widened in alarm. 

“Pearl! Wait-” Violet grabbed for the door. “Wait wait wait wait.” 

“What?” Pearl reached over her, grabbing her hand and furrowing her brow. “Are you okay?”

“Trixie!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Pearl we left Trixie behind!”

Pearl had to bite her lip not to smile, since Violet seemed genuinely distressed. “Trixie left with Katya and Max over 2 hours ago,” Pearl explained patiently. “He’s probably all snuggled up in his jammies, fast asleep.” 

“Oh.” Violet’s shoulders relaxed as she slumped onto the seat. “Okay. That’s… That’s good.” Violet yawned a little, covering her mouth with her hand. “I wish I was wearing pajamas.”

This time, Pearl did actually snort. Violet was the only person she knew who could be near black out drunk, but still insisted on calling it pajamas.

“Do you?” Pearl couldn’t help asking, buckling her in. “What kind of pajamas?”

Violet gave her a sly smile, eyes half closed. “I’m not telling you that…” 

Pearl laughed, shaking her head. Even drunk off her ass, Violet still managed to be more a mystery than not. 

***

Trixie yawned as he made his way to the bedroom. He had brushed his teeth, swaying in place and humming to himself while he had done it.

Pearl hadn’t come home with them, Trixie was pleasantly tipsy, and he couldn’t wait to spend the night on some private time with his girlfriend.

Trixie opened the door, to see Katya who was standing by the mirror, brushing her blonde hair. She was perfectly sober, their eyes meeting in the mirror, and Katya broke into a giant smile.

“Hey cutie.” 

“Hi.” Trixie couldn’t help but blush as he crawled onto the bed, the temptation to shake his ass too great to resist, and the move earned him a loud laugh from the woman he loved. 

Katya was the beginning and the end of his world, and all he ever needed. He could listen to her all day, her laughs and giggles, her hyena fits and even when she snorted, all filling him with joy. 

Trixie was more than ready to burrow into the pillows, and wait for Katya to finish her hair so she could come defile him, when he felt something that was horribly, horribly wrong.

One of the decorative pillows on the bed, the blue one, was all flat.

“Katya?”

“Mmh?” Katya was braiding her hair, her long fingers running through it.

“Did you wash the pillows?”

“Yes, isn’t it nice?”

“Mmmh..” Trixie picked the pillow up, gently trying to fluff it, to get it back to how it had been before Katya had thrown it in the washer but it was definitely dead. 

“Shit.” Trixie whispered. He felt sad, the pillow one of his preferred companions on many a long night whenever he took “special” time with himself.

“What’s with the long face, sugarbutt?” Katya crawled onto the bed too, and Trixie could see that she was wearing nothing beneath her silk robe, the look in her eyes telling him that she was more than ready to fuck.

“I don’t have a long face, a round one, maybe, but not long.”

“You’re perfect.” Katya smiled, her hands gliding over Trixie’s scalp and grabbing what little hair he had, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss. “Now come on, you’re drunk and I want a piece of you before you pass out.” 

Katya smirked, and caught him again, the two of them falling back on the bed.

Trixie tried to enjoy the kiss, but he couldn’t calm down, couldn’t let go of the fact that their washed pillows were filling him with something that almost felt like annoyance.

“Katya?” 

“Mmh?” Katya had practically crawled in his lap, her legs on either sides of him, his hands on her hips.

“It was my special pillow.”

“What?” Katya stopped, her face the perfect picture of confusion. “Your special pillow?”

“You know,” Trixie closed his eyes. He was pretty sure that sober him would never say this, but drunk him had no such problems, “for when you’re gone.. And I, you know, miss you…” 

“Wha-”

Trixie could feel himself blush, his cheeks burning.

“Wait. You mean. Oh, oh, ooooooooh. Really?”

Trixie wanted to die, his insides feeling like hot liquid, the shame painful, but also so delicious, his cock growing fully hard, and he knew Katya could feel it.

“Show me.”

“… Show you?”

Katya nodded, the woman quickly getting out of Trixie’s lap, sitting against the headboard, her hand gently going over Trixie’s face.

“Please me sweet boy, and I promise it’ll be worth it.”

Trixie closed his eyes, his heart hammering away as he pushed down his pajama pants, the pillow stuffed underneath him by Katya.

Trixie wanted nothing more than to serve, making Katya happy the most important thing in his life.

***

Violet blinked, her brain feeling like it could run out of her ear the first chance it got. “Ow…” Violet tried to turn over to go back to sleep, but her body felt like it was made of stone.

“There’s water and painkillers on the nightstand, but you need to get ready because you have work in a few hours.”

Horror slowly washed over Violet’s whole body, turning her blood to ice, as she realized who the voice belonged to and that the bed she was in was definitely not her own.

“Oh no, no no no no.” Violet looked around, ignoring the hammering pain in her head. 

Pearl was lying next to her in nothing but a cotton bra and panties, a smirk on her face. Violet looked down, slowly realising that she was wearing one of Pearl’s t-shirts, and that was when it hit her. 

“Did we, oh god- Why am I wearing” Violet could feel her throat close up, panic clawing under her skin. “What happened- Pearl, did we- Did we… Did we have sex?”

“Wow.” Pearl raised an eyebrow, “Is the idea of fucking me really that terrifying, ViVi?”

“I can’t remember anything after Adore bought that last round of shots...”

Violet felt like she was going to have a full blown panic attack trying to figure out what happened after they left the club. 

_ Fuck fuck fuck. _

“Violet. Relax, please.” Pearl reached out, gently petting Violet’s back. The sensation of Pearl’s palm - warm through the cotton of her t-shirt - was tantalizing, but Violet couldn't enjoy it at all. 

“Nothing happened last night, I promise.” 

“And why would I believe that?” Violet could feel tears threaten to fall, shame welling up in her stomach. “I wake up, and I can’t remember, you’re not wearing any clothes, I’m not in my dress- I’m not even in my apartment and I- I-”

Violet had to fight not to cry, not because she was disgusted at the idea that she had maybe slept with Pearl, but because she couldn’t remember anything at all. It was scary not to have any idea what she had done, but it was terrifying to think that she had wrecked her chance of a relationship with Pearl, or even worse, that she had ruined their friendship. 

“Violet, listen to me.” Pearl turned Violet’s head so she could look her in the eyes, her thumb gently gliding over her cheekbone. “Nothing happened, I promise.”

Violet bit her lip, looking into Pearl’s blue blue eyes.

“I brought you here to help sober you up. I tried to give you some coffee without waking Katya and Trixie, but you passed out before I had the chance.”

Violet felt her throat relax, her breath slowly returning to normal.

“I undressed you since no one should sleep in Alexander McQueen.” Pearl smirked. “Imaging your horror if you had creased your dress.”

Violet snorted. “I guess…”

“And Violet-” Pearl smiled, grabbing her pillow and putting it back under her own head. “If we had actually fucked, I promise you would remember.”

Violet had to laugh at that, shaking her head at Pearl’s cockiness. 

“You should probably start getting ready. I know your whole look probably requires a lot of primping, and it’s almost 6:30.” 

“What?!”

***

Violet felt like a group of tiny dwarves had taken up shop inside her head, even the sound of her own nails on her computer keyboard too much.

Violet had rushed to work that morning, none of her usual calm present as she had practically verbally abused a taxi driver when he took a wrong turn. She had felt so bad she had thrown an extra ten dollars in his face, but the day had just gone downhill.

Thankfully Fame had been kind to her that morning, in an unusually sweet mood, not even commenting on the fact that Violet wore sunglasses indoors, even accepting the first breakfast with no complaints of the coffee being a little cold. 

Alaska had called after lunch, her normal high pitched ‘hiiiiie’ feeling like a red hot poker forcing its way through her brain. 

***

Fame was reading an email when Pearl came into the office, wearing sunglasses with shades the size of plates. Fame smiled; Pearl looked as bad as she knew Violet felt, and oh how she loved to see her pets get what they deserved.

“You sent for me, Miss.”

“Close the door.”

Pearl smiled, quickly obeying Fame.

“You’ve been a bad girl. Seducing my staff to go drinking on a weekday, paralyzing my poor assistant.”

Pearl snorted, a cheek grin on her face.

“Did you know that Violet gave me her own coffee this morning,” Fame held up her cup, Violet’s name scrawled on the side, “without even noticing?”

“I’m sorry Miss, that wasn’t my intention.” Pearl smiled, the air crackling with sexual tension. Fame loved teasing Pearl, loved playing this game of pretend between them.

“Perhaps not, but the damage has been done,” Fame said, keeping her tone cool and even, looking directly into Pearl’s eyes. 

“Let me make it up to you, Miss,” said Pearl. Her sleepy voice with just a hint of rasp from last night’s debauchery made the offer implicitly sexy.

“You really think it’s going to be that easy?” Fame asked. She drummed her nails on the arm of her chair as she leaned back. 

“Maybe not, but I can have fun trying.” Pearl took a few steps forward and dropped to her knees. 

“Hm.” 

Fame looked down at her lovely face, reaching down to remove her sunglasses. 

“Please, Miss?” Pearl placed a kiss against her knee, lifting the hem of her skirt slowly. 

“Fine,” Fame said, voice resigned as if she was indulging Pearl and not the other way around. “But be quick.” 

***

On Thursday morning, when Max stopped by Fame’s office to drop off a batch of photos with the new sample clothes, he noticed that Violet looked out of sorts.

To a stranger she probably looked perfectly poised, but Max could see it in the way her ponytail wasn’t completely tight, could see it in the way she kept sipping water.

So later that day, during a creative meeting which meant Fame was out of the office, he returned with coffees and a little bag of croissants, gently asking if she had time for a short break. She’d accepted the coffee gratefully, but hesitated about the pastry. 

“They’re still warm, if that helps,” he said, and that seemed to seal the deal. 

Violet reached into the back and pulled one out, sinking back into her chair with a sigh as Max settled on the sofa. 

“It’s been a rather hectic week, hasn’t it?” 

“You have no idea,” Violet smiled, shaking her head.

“Anything I can assist with?” Max offered. 

“No, I just...I really need to find a candidate, any candidate for the assistant position that Fame will at least consider.” Violet sighed. “The last few didn’t exactly-” 

“Go well?” Max guessed. 

“That’s generous, and I have no idea where I went wrong.” Violet groaned. “Fame needs someone who can do well, who can support her in everything. Everyone so far has been more than qualified, one of them even worked as an event planner, and yet, she sent them all away without a second though.”

“That sounds like her.” Max smiled. 

“If she won’t accept people who are organized and experienced…” Violet trailed off, eyes going to the resumes littering her desk, creases in them telling Max how many times she’d been through them. “I don’t know what to do.”

Max pondered her dilemma. Of course, considering their boss’s desire for perfection, it would make sense for Violet to bring in these competent professionals with years of experience. On paper, that made perfect sense. 

But there was another side to Fame, one with which Violet was probably less familiar. 

“Have you considered…” Max paused. He needed to be careful to phrase this correctly. “You know how she loves to cultivate talent. To discover people, so to speak. So while it’s important to bring in people who are smart and capable...perhaps consider someone a bit more...green?”

Violet tilted her head, brow furrowed. It seems that offering up fresh young faces simply hadn’t occurred to her. 

“You never know,” Max said, “But she may very well appeal to someone eager and ready to learn. And, uh...aesthetically pleasing, shall we say?” 

“I guess... “ Violet’s eyes drifted back to the resumes on her desk, realization dawning on her face as she pulled one from the pile. “It’ll be worth a shot. Thank you Max.”

“Don’t mention it,” Max said with a wry chuckle. “Really. Don’t mention it. HR would probably not appreciate the way I phrased that.” 

“Probably not.” Violet laughed, and they clinked their paper cups together.

  
  



	8. Courtney's Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: A wild night in the club led to a miserable, hangover-fueled day for Violet--and then a frustrating week, as Fame rejected all of the assistant candidates. 
> 
> This Chapter: In a last-ditch effort to find a new assistant for Fame, Violet gives Courtney a shot.

Never in Courtney’s life had she seen a room as white, spotless and intimidating as Galactica’s reception area. She sat on the pristine sofa, hands folded in her lap, anxiety gnawing at her stomach. She’d been sending out resumes for almost 2 months, ever since she’d gotten to New York, in a desperate attempt to find a job--any job--that would allow her to stay in the United States. 

This was only her second interview so far, the first one being a disaster - she’d missed her train connection and arrived late and sweaty from running ten blocks, and then the hiring manager had spent the entire time talking straight to her chest, patting her on the ass as she left while telling her that she was unqualified. 

Of  _ course _ she was unqualified. 

Courtney was a 21-year-old who’d just graduated a few months earlier with a philosophy degree and zero office experience. Her current under-the-table job, waitressing at an Aussie-themed steakhouse in Times Square, was not going to keep her in the country. (Although she was grateful to her friend Morgan for hooking her up with it, since she’d be flat broke otherwise.) 

Courtney  _ had _ to stay in the country if there was any hope of her real dream coming true, which was to become a professional singer and songwriter, and maybe even a Broadway actress, if she was lucky. If she could ever get so much as an audition, which had also not happened yet. The best she’d done so far was sometimes singing with Adore’s band, but punk rock wasn’t really her style, and though she was grateful to her bestie for giving her a shot, it always felt awkward and wrong. 

While she waited to be called for her interview, she prayed with all her heart; she wasn’t sure she believed in god, but it couldn’t hurt, right? 

She prayed that her connection to Adore would mean something here. That Violet would remember her. That Miss Fame would like her. That the hours she’d spent carefully putting together her current outfit, getting her roots touched up and press-on nails to cover her real ones (bitten down to the quick) wouldn’t all be a waste. 

Courtney heard the sound of heels coming down the hall, and then Violet appeared from around the corner. Courtney felt relief washing over her, happy to see the beautiful girl she had instantly bonded with the other night. 

It was actually amazing that Violet had come through for her, making sure that her application had made it to Fame herself. Courtney smiled brightly.

“Good morning, babes!”

Violet gave her a cursory smile back, quickly checking her watch. “It’s almost noon.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Courtney swallowed, feeling like an idiot as Violet looked her up and down like a zoo animal. “I was just making conversa-”

“This isn’t a place for small talk,” Violet said, then pointed at her purse. “Leave that with Roxy.” 

“What?” Courtney clutched the bag to her chest. “No!” It was one of her favorite accessories, a star-shaped silver handbag with pink iridescent piping. Not to mention, it contained her phone, wallet, keys, and pretty much everything important.

“Courtney.” Violet made a small, aggravated noise. “If you want any hope of getting this job, you will leave that thing here at the front desk where Miss Fame can’t ever see it.” 

Whoever this Violet was, she was very very different from the fun, friendly girl she’d met at the club.

“Okay,” Courtney agreed reluctantly, handing the bag over to the receptionist, who pinched it between her thumb and forefinger as if it was covered in dog shit. 

Courtney rolled her eyes. 

It wasn’t an expensive designer handbag. So what? Surely she wasn’t the first girl to own a fun, cute, novelty purse.

“Come with me,” Violet then said, taking off back down the hall. 

Courtney hurried after her, following her into an immaculate conference room with a huge table. Violet gestured to one of the chairs. 

“Sit down please.”

Courtney sat, nerves still on edge. 

“So…” Violet sat down across from her, notebook open, looking at Courtney’s resume. She clicked her pen. “How much do you know about Galactica? Miss Fame? What research have you done on the company?” 

“Oh, um…” Courtney paused, deflating a bit. She’d been prepared to talk about herself, not realizing that there was going to be a quiz. “Well, I know that it’s a very...uh, influential fashion house. And that Miss Fame is the CEO. And…” 

Violet waited for another second, before she sighed deeply.

“Let me explain. Miss Fame is one of the busiest and most sought-after people in town. She started this company with Raja Gemini when she was only 26 years old. They got accepted and won the Fashion Fund on their first try. They’re visionaries. Why do you want to work here?” 

“Well, I’ve always loved fashion-” 

“Have you now?” Violet said, giving her a stern once-over. 

Courtney felt like those judgmental eyes would melt her very soul, and suddenly became extremely self-conscious about her choice of outfit. Was her skirt too short? Did her jacket not fit right? Was she wearing anything as offensive as that purse she couldn’t even take into the office? She gulped.

“Y-yes.” It was the truth, even if Violet didn’t believe her. Ever since she could remember, Courtney had loved putting together fabulous outfits. Usually with her brother, both of them getting glammed up and prancing around the house, pretending that they were posh ladies with all the money in the world. And when they were older, he was the one who dressed her up and escorted her to talent agents and auditions--her own little stage mom. “And I did some modeling as a kid in Brisbane.”

Violet rolled her eyes. “Please don’t say that, it won’t impress her at all.”

“Alright. Well, it seems like it would be a really exciting job. And Adore always talks about how wonderful Fame is-”

“ _ Miss  _ Fame,” Violet corrected her. “You aren’t her friend, call her Miss. And don’t mention Adore.” 

“No? But she said-”

“She’ll think it’s tacky. She would never hire someone because of a personal connection. If you get the job, it’ll be on your own merits, not because you know Adore. And not because we danced in a club the other night.  _ Don’t  _ mention that either.”

“Okay. Got it.” Courtney bit her lip. This whole situation seemed less and less likely to work out, the few advantages Courtney thought she might have coming in slipping through her fingers like sand. 

“Look, Courtney. Working as Miss Fame’s assistant is not some frivolous job full of exciting parties and fancy clothes, okay? It requires you to be organized, and smart, and always stay ten steps ahead of everyone. You’ll need to anticipate Miss Fame’s every need, before she even knows she has them. Is that something you think you can do?” 

Anticipate needs before Miss Fame knows she has them? What in the fuck was Violet talking about? She wasn’t a psychic. But this was a job interview, and Courtney supposed that she should nod and smile. 

“Yes. Yes, of course,” Courtney said. “I’m...very intuitive.” 

“Mmhmm. And how are you with Microsoft office?” 

“Pretty good, I think. And I learn very fast,” Courtney said. 

“What about communication? Written, verbal...are you a good communicator?”

“Very!” Courtney exclaimed, gaining a little bit of confidence. Finally, something she knew she could handle. 

“I’m gonna be honest with you. You don’t have a lot of experience and she has been very, very picky. So your best bet, when you go in with her, is to keep your mouth shut and just listen. This job isn’t about you, it’s about what you can do for her. You don’t matter. Does that make sense?” 

Courtney nodded slowly. 

“I hope you don’t think I’m being harsh. I’m just trying to prepare you so that you have half a chance.”

“Oh, I know! And thank you, honestly. I really need this job. My visa is-”

“For  _ god’s _ sake, don’t mention your visa. If you get the job, HR will deal with that.” 

“Right, of course.” Don’t mention the visa. Don’t mention Adore. Don’t mention the club. Don’t mention modeling. Courtney’s head spun, praying she’d remember anything she  _ was _ allowed to say when Fame asked her questions. 

“Look. Everyone in New York wants something from Miss Fame. If you’re her assistant, your most important job is to be the gatekeeper. You need to say no to people without them realizing it’s happening. You protect her from all the madness, support her so that her brilliant creative mind can thrive. Do you understand?” 

“Yes. Definitely.” Courtney nodded emphatically, and she saw the first thing that almost looked like a smile on Violet’s face since she had arrived.

“Good.” Violet glanced at her watch. “I need to get back. You can stay here until she’s ready for you. But remember...don’t say anything unless you’re answering a direct question. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Courtney said. 

“Good luck Courtney, and don’t fuck it up.”

With that, Violet picked up her things and sailed out of the room, leaving Courtney alone. She held her breath for a full 10 seconds before letting out a huge sigh, head dropping onto her arms. 

Soon, the sound of heels approaching again caused her to jump, spine ramrod straight as Violet threw open the door and snapped her fingers. 

“She’s ready. Let’s go.” 

***

Fame leaned back in her chair, assessing the girl in front of her with a discerning eye. 

She was certainly a pretty little thing, bright-eyed and well-groomed, definitely the right look. Of course, her shoes were cheap and a bit scuffed, the chunky heels absolutely horrifying, but that could be fixed. 

She was trembling like a leaf--although Fame didn’t particularly mind that part. 

Courtney had said very little (another mark in her favor), but from what she had offered, Fame appreciated the accent right away. Something about an Australian accent tended to both impress and intimidate Americans, which could easily work in her favor. 

After watching her suffer in silence for a few moments, Fame leaned forward, asking, “So...Courtney, was it?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think you’ll bring to this job that no one else can?”

“Well...I work very hard, and I’m very organized, and, uh...I’m really good at playing dumb.” 

Fame tilted her head. Well, this was certainly an interesting answer. 

“Go on.” 

“Violet, she said that most of the job is protecting your privacy and being a...gatekeeper for people who want your attention. That you have to do it in a nice way.” Courtney cleared her throat, continuing nervously. “I think I would be good at pretending I don’t know things, like where you are when you’re in the middle of something that they’re not allowed to know about. Like, um, acting innocent or like...” 

Fame continued to listen, eyes narrowed slightly, watching with amusement as Courtney cringed a bit. 

“I’m sorry, that was very long-winded. I think I’d be good at making people feel good even when I’m saying no to them.” 

“Hm.” Fame lifted her resume, looking it over one more time. She was inexperienced. Very inexperienced. But there was something about her that Fame found charming, even shrewd. 

Besides, if she took longer to train, well, then Violet would just have to stay longer. Which was no skin off Fame’s back. 

“Thank you, Courtney.”

“Oh.” Courtney seemed to realize that this was her cue to leave, standing awkwardly. “Thank you so much for the opportunity. It was an honor to meet you,” she said, looking like she wanted to say more, but deciding against it. Another plus. 

“That’s all.”

***

Violet had never been happier to see the end of the workweek than when the clock struck 7 on Friday.

Fame would leave soon and then Violet would finally have time to tie up the loose ends of the day, which had gone by like a whirlwind.

Violet kicked off her shoes to rest for just a moment. She was feeling utterly exhausted but victorious. 

Courtney had been hired, the girl shrieking so loudly when Violet had called to tell her the news that she almost burst Violet’s eardrum.

Violet leaned back, looking up at the ceiling, her eyes slipped closed. It was just a moment, just for one single moment.

“Ahem.”

Violet heard the cleared throat, but she was so tired she could barely open her eyes. The front doors were closed, the alarm set up on most floors, so it had to be someone from their own company.

“What can I help you with?”

“Is Fame still here?” Violet didn’t recognize the voice, the tone of it clearly male, but it didn’t matter who it was. They weren’t going to be allowed in.

“She is, but Miss Fame is not taking anymore meetings for today,” Violet sat up straight, and opened her eyes, “so if you could plea-”

Violet froze in place, the man in front of her someone she knew very, very well.

“Mr. Bertschy!”

“Hello.” Patrick smiled. 

“Oh god, I am so sorry.” Violet stood up straight, quickly smoothing down her dress. Of course it was Fame’s husband. Of course. He often worked just as late as Fame, and since his offices were also in the building, he had keys and codes for everything. “I’ll call her right away for you sir, I’m so sorr-”

“There will be no need for that, Violet.” 

Violet stopped immediately as she heard Fame’s soft voice coming from her office, the woman herself walking through her door seconds later.

“Hello darling.” Fame smiled, a tenderness in her eyes as she walked over that Violet very rarely saw. Fame leaned forward, gently kissing her husband.

Violet looked away quickly, Fame always preferring to keep her privacy around employees, from what Violet knew.

She felt like an absolute idiot that she hadn’t made the connection that the visitor would be Fame’s husband, Violet herself making the very dinner reservation they were on their way to now.

“Are you ready to go, darling?”

Patrick nodded and Violet hurried over to get Fame’s coat and purse from the closet. She walked over, holding it up so Fame could slip into it, the scent of her perfume filling Violet’s nose as she did just that.

“I expect everything to be ready Monday for our new employee.” Fame took her purse. “It will be your responsibility to train her, so be prepared to work overtime.”

Violet nodded. “Yes Miss.”

“Good.” Fame took her husband's arm, the two of them walking to the door where Fame stopped. “Oh, and Violet.” Fame looked over her shoulder. “Put on some shoes.”

Violet looked down, horror rushing over her when she realized that she had forgotten to put her shoes on.

“Yes Miss, it will happen Miss, right away.”

***

Katya would be hard-pressed to name a place in the world she loved more than their building’s rooftop. What had begun as a little community herb garden and grilling station had expanded over the years into a sanctuary. The rows of trees and potted plants lining the sides provided shade, their own little oasis in the urban jungle. They were chosen specifically to attract birds and butterflies as a tribute to Max, her very favorite birder and someone whom Katya relied on as a source of calm in a hectic world. 

With permission from Fame, Katya had blown through the last of her own personal trust fund with a complete renovation to the barbecue area, turning it into a fully functional outdoor kitchen and lounge area, perfect for their weekend brunches. 

Trixie had gently questioned her at the time; as someone who grew up with so little, he needed money in the bank or he’d get anxious. But what he might never understand was how much joy Katya had gotten creating a place to share with their friends and neighbors, how the time they spent together was more valuable to her than money had ever been. 

Katya’s father was an ambassador, and after their family moved to Washington D.C. from Russia when she was just 3 years old, her life was full of stiff formal dinners, itchy fabrics that made it impossible to sit still, and so many rules that it made her head spin. 

What followed were years of stuffy New England boarding schools and regimented summer camps. Every second of every day was planned for her: Latin and classical piano, cotillion and horseback riding lessons. Katya tried, she really did, to live up to all of the overwhelming expectations, but at some point along the line, the pressure was too much and she’d just caved in. 

Katya shook her head, not wanting to think about the dark years, how hard it had been to get to this point. Instead, she inhaled deeply, looking across the patio at her wonderful boyfriend, doing his very best to squeeze oranges into juice for their brunch. 

“Looking good, sugarbutt!” she called out. “Work those muscles.” 

Trixie flexed for her, making her giggle delightedly before returning to the table, arranging the baskets of warm breads and pastries that she had been baking since 6 am. She unwrapped the fruit and veggie platter, artfully carved into elaborate rosettes and whimsical little animals, admiring a particularly cute little kiwi turtle, giving him a secret kiss just before the door swung open to reveal their first guest. 

“Kimberly!” Katya skipped over to Kim, greeting her excitedly. Helping her with the mountain of French toast and platter of bacon that she’d brought to share. 

As usual, her generosity was overwhelming to Katya, part of the reason that she was one of her favorite neighbors. The other part being her absolute artistry. Katya had been in awe of her makeup skills since the first time she’d seen her work, that Galactica show she’d attended with Trixie so many years ago, nervous to return to a place which had been the scene of one of her most dramatic failures in life. 

She and Kim were soon chattering away as they set the table, discussing the latest collection at the Brooklyn museum, an anime-inspired artist who they both adored. 

Max showed up next, with a beautiful garden veggie frittata and a carafe of hot tea. 

“Thank you, Maxi, this looks delicious,” Katya said, giving him a tight squeeze. 

Shangela arrived soon after, with a tray of Southern-style mac and cheese that caused both Kim and Trixie to burst into spontaneous applause, and a large bouquet of colorful flowers, presented to Katya with a wink. Shangela was someone that Katya thought she’d never win over - she’d created a major headache for her during her brief time at Galactica, and would certainly not have blamed her if she’d kept a distance. 

But Shangela was a forgiving sort of person—after all, she worked daily with her ex-girlfriend—and had no problem at all giving Katya a chance on her own terms when she moved in. Soon, they’d established a mischievous sort of friendship, a playful flirtation and little inside jokes that Katya wouldn’t trade for anything. 

Shangela was just explaining the intricacies of her mac recipe to Kim’s wide-eyed appreciation when the door opened again, revealing Violet in a characteristically chic set of work-out clothes—only instead of brunch offerings, she held a yoga mat in her hands, a surprised look on her face as she backed away. 

“Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to interrupt…” 

“Don’t be silly!” Katya called, beckoning her over. “So glad you’re here!” 

“I’m, uh…” Violet glanced at the yoga mat in her hands, tugging at the bottom of her matte black tank top.

“Trixie…” Katya put her hands on her hips. “I told you to invite Violet to brunch. You didn’t forget, did you?” 

Trixie set the pitcher of orange juice on the table, a sheepish look on his face. 

“Oops.” 

“Ha! Busted,” Shangela teased, punching Trixie on the arm. 

“Hey, come on. It’s been a rough week,” Trixie defended himself. 

“I know,” Katya said, putting her arms around him from behind. “Violet, please stay. I promise next time, you’ll get a formal invite, but trust me, we’re thrilled that you’re here.” 

“Oh, I...don’t know if-”

“Hey hey hey, it’s my favorite people…” Pearl said, strolling up to the table. The last to show up, as usual, holding a partially empty bottle of vodka and container of strawberries. 

“Aren’t those the strawberries that Katya bought?” Trixie asked, one eyebrow raised. He gestured to the platter, where a handful of said strawberries had been transformed into jaunty little penguins. 

“Are they?” Pearl asked. 

“And thank you for bringing them up to share with our friends!” Katya enthused, hugging her roommate tightly. “You’re so thoughtful.”

Pearl cast a glance over at Violet, lips turning up in a smirk as she assessed her skimpy attire. 

“Nice shorts, pumpkin.” 

“I-I didn’t know, I’m sorry, I-”

Katya watched as Violet attempted to stammer out a reply, immediately noticing how pink her cheeks got under Pearl’s bold gaze. Well, that would either be the cutest match in history, or end in total disaster. For Violet’s sake, Katya hoped for the former. 

“Don’t be sorry. You look cute.” Pearl gave her a sexy wink and sat down, pouring some vodka into her glass. 

“So, are we brunching or what?” 

The rest of the group slid into their seats, helping themselves to the bountiful spread. 

Max raised a judgmental eye at Pearl as he asked, “I assume you’re the one responsible for the racket at 3 am?” 

“She said she’d be quiet,” Pearl shrugged, barely containing a sly grin. “Not my fault she lied.” 

“No it ain’t, baby,” Shangela laughed, giving the blonde a fist bump. 

“Can we please say grace? I’d like to give thanks that I don’t share a wall with Pearl,” Kim chimed in. 

“Awww, Kimmy. Don’t be jealous,” Pearl licked her lips, “I’ve always got time for you.” 

Kim threw back her head in laughter, a piece of Katya’s blueberry muffins in her mouth as she said, “Never change, Pearl. The women of New York would really be losing out.” 

Katya seemed to be the only one noticing Violet’s face getting redder and redder at all the talk of Pearl’s sex life, as tame as the discussion was. Her fingers were twisted into the hem of her top, and seemed to be pulling at a loose thread. 

All too familiar with the telltale signs of anxiety, Katya put a reassuring hand on her back and began to fill her plate. Something told her that Violet wasn’t big on rich, indulgent foods, so she began with a slice of fresh whole-grain bread and then some of her favorite little fruit creatures: a few of the penguin strawberries, of course, a kiwi turtle, and a little tangerine bear. She lined them up on Violet’s plate like she was arranging toys for a child, feeling unusually protective of this strange and beautiful new friend. 

It took Violet a few moments to tear her eyes away from the very conversation making her so uncomfortable. She saw Katya’s handiwork and then glanced up at her, the two of them sharing a secret smile of camaraderie before Katya placed one last offering on her plate: an elaborate carrot rose. 

Violet giggled, mouthing ‘ _ Thanks _ ,’ and Katya winked, leaning back happily to bask in the warm sunshine. Yes, she’d fit in just fine. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Violet suffered a hangover and, to her delight, found an assistant candidate that Fame approved. 
> 
> This Chapter: A million girls would kill for Courtney’s new job.

Courtney took a deep breath as she entered the Galactica building and took the elevator up to the 25th floor. 

It was a sunny day in early August, and she had dressed in her very best outfit since it would be her first day at her brand new job. 

Courtney had applied for the job with little to no hope of actually getting it, but then the miracle happened, and she had been completely overjoyed when her new friend Violet had called her with the news; even if the interview with Miss Fame had been one of the scariest things she had ever done. 

Courtney’s entire weekend had been spent in a frantic state of pulling together the mountain of paperwork HR had requested in order to get her visa, and of course there was the anxiety about having nice enough clothes to wear. 

She had ended up enlisting Tyra to help, since her college friend was the most stylish person she knew, and managed to do it on a budget, too. They’d scraped together enough pieces for this week, but if Courtney lasted longer than that, and she desperately hoped she would, she would have to beg, borrow and perhaps steal some more.

It was 8 am, and Courtney thought she would have been the first one in the building, but when she made it to the office, Violet was already there. Courtney quickly checked her hair and her teeth in the glass door reflection, smoothing out the wrinkles in her light blue dress before she opened the door with a big smile and a cheery, “Good morning!”

Violet looked up. She was wearing a white buttoned up shirt, golden jewelry and a crimson pencil skirt, her long black hair falling down her back in curly waves, looking as beautiful and impeccably put-together as always. 

Violet was organizing something at a brand new desk that had not been there during Courtney’s interview. It was placed directly across from Violet’s desk, on the other side of the door to Fame’s office. 

“Ah. Courtney.” Violet smiled. “Good morning.”

Courtney sighed, a bit relieved. Today, Violet seemed much more like the lovely girl she’d met at the club last week, and less like the uptight hardass she’d been during the interview. Courtney supposed that maybe that had been a test, and she was thrilled she passed, because now they could be friends. 

She looked at the new desk, which was equipped with a new iMac and office supplies, along with a thick binder and notepad with the Galactica logo.

“Fame is getting her hair recolored and cut at Juju Sandersons salon-” Violet took a brief pause, her eyes searching Courtney’s face for something, and Courtney realized that she was probably expected to know who that was, though she had no idea. “Hmm.” Violet tapped her papers against the desk, putting them into a neat and organized pile. “Which means we have time to get you ready before she returns.”

“Get me ready?” Courtney looked down at herself; she thought she looked more than fine. She’d tried to look as chic as possible in honor of the new job.

“Not that. Your outfit is acceptable today.” Violet gestured for Courtney to come sit at the desk while she continued to stand. “Here.” Violet placed a stack of papers in front of Courtney on the table.

“What’s this?”

“I need you to sign this before we begin.” Violet put a perfectly manicured finger down on the paper, and Courtney’s nose was filled with the overpowering scent of lavender. “It’s a standard NDA. You’ll do the rest of your paperwork with HR later, but I can’t show you anything until you sign.”

“Oh...okay.” Courtney wasn’t sure exactly what an NDA was, but if it was that important, she supposed she better sign immediately. She picked up a pen and began to fill it out as quickly as possible. 

Her pen had barely lifted from the last line when Violet snatched it off the table, replacing it with the binder.

“Thank you.” 

Violet pointed to the binder, a 4-inch monstrosity filled with tabbed sections and little flag stickers. “I took the liberty of preparing a manual for you. It’s nowhere near complete, but it’s enough to get you started. Read it, memorize it, get to know everything inside.”

“Sure,” Courtney said, and opened the cover, a little startled when Violet reached out a hand to snap it shut again. 

“Not now.” Violet sighed. “Do that on your own time. Please.”

“Sorry.” Courtney swallowed. Guess party Violet was a lot further away than she had thought.

“I’ve pulled these for you from marketing.” Violet dumped a stack of colorful catalogues on Courtney’s desk. “Brochures for the last 10 years, so you can become familiar with the collections. Every day here can be a test, so be serious when you study them. Miss Fame will frequently ask for references, and sometimes she won’t give much information. You’re expected to be able to find ‘the powder blue tweed skirt’ or ‘the dress with the flowers’. It’s your job to figure out what Miss Fame wants. Never ask her for clarification.”

“Never?”

“If you do, she’ll be aggravated, and believe me, you do not want to experience her aggravated.”

“Right…” 

“Remember, this will be fun,” Violet touched Courtney’s shoulder, a smile on her face. “You told me you love fashion, right?”

Courtney nodded. She was starting to have a sneaking suspicion that her idea of loving fashion was different from Violet’s. 

“Here’s the company directory.” Violet put yet another document folder on the table, this time filled with laminated sheets. “All of these are obviously in the binder, section 2, but I made some laminated versions for your desk. You need to know this backwards and forwards. Focus on senior management first, they’re the most important, but you’ll be expected to name and know the other assistants. Know the support staff too, but that won’t be expected until at least your third week here. This-” Violet pulled another list out of the folder, “is a list of the company’s trusted vendors and consultants. Do not, and I repeat, do not, just use whoever you think will be able to do a good job.”

Violet waited for a beat to make sure Courtney had understood.

“And this is Miss Fame’s approved list - her close friends and trusted associates. Pay attention to it; none of the people here should ever have to wait more than an hour for a callback.”

“Is Adore on it?” Courtney’s eyes lit up, looking down at the list.

“This isn’t about your friend.”

“Right, of course.” Courtney added the new papers to the growing stack of material she was expected to memorize. 

“Now...” Violet placed a brand new iPhone in front of her, which Courtney immediately grabbed, gasping when she turned it around and saw that it was the one in rose gold.

“Oh my god!” Courtney loved it. It was sparkly and fun and just what she needed after what felt like hours of white paper and black folders.

“Are you disappointed?” Violet looked genuinely sorry. “I can have it exchanged if you don’t enjoy pink, I simply thought-”Violet extended her hand, ready to take the phone back.

“No!” Courtney moved so Violet couldn’t get it. “No! It’s fine! More than fine! I love it!”

“Great.” Violet pulled a chair up to Courtney’s desk, sitting down and looking at her gravely. “This phone is your most important piece of work equipment. It’s not a toy, and it’s not for your personal use, okay? I don’t want to catch you playing Candy Crush or screwing around on social media with this.”

Courtney nodded, already knowing now that she did not intend to keep that promise at all. This was the best thing that had happened all day; her new phone was going with her everywhere from now on. She glanced around the office to see where the best selfie light would be, already imagining the post with #firstday in the caption. 

“You will never, and I mean never, leave your phone unattended during business hours.”

Courtney swallowed, her daydream of selfies completely forgotten. Violet sounded serious. Way serious.

“We do have an office line,” Violet pointed at the phone on Courtney’s desk, which had a corresponding model on Violet’s, “but any calls get redirected to our phones if no one picks up within the first four rings.”

Courtney nodded again, trying to commit everything Violet was saying to memory. 

“Fame uses these numbers to get in touch with us, so you’ll have it on, even during nights and weekends in case Fame needs us.”

“Got it.” Courtney smiled. It sounded kind of extreme and she was pretty sure Violet was exaggerating. Who had their work phone on over the weekends?

“Good. Now remember, there will never be any excuse good enough not to take your phone if Fame calls during the weekend, and you will always, and I mean always, have it fully charged. Nothing is more useless than an assistant you can’t get a hold of.”

Courtney nodded, keeping a very serious expression on her face to match Violet’s tone. 

“Always bring a notepad with you too. Fame is busy and if we can help it we never bother her with any follow-up questions, we just do what we’re supposed to.”

“Right.” Courtney almost bit her lip, the word starting to sound stupid to her own ears since she had said it so much.

“Last but not least,” Violet placed a keycard in front of Courtney next with her full name and photo on it. “This is your keycard to the building. We have one of the highest security ratings, so never, and I mean never, ever, ever, lose it. We can go through every door on every floor except for senior management’s private offices, though yours will work for Fame’s.”

“We can go into Fame’s office?” Courtney smiled widely, already excited about snooping around in the inner secrets of Galactica’s glamorous CEO.

“Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should.”

“Oh…”

“We are assistants, Courtney, and therefore the least important people in this company.”

Courtney wrinkled her brow. She was pretty sure she had just heard Violet say they had access to everything, which seemed pretty damned important if you asked her.

“We’re not here for personal gain or to have fun, but to make Miss Fame’s workday as easy and effortless as humanly possible. If we fuck up, we get fired, so I hope you have prepared yourself for that.”

Courtney gulped, realizing for the first time how much responsibility was about to be piled on her slim shoulders. 

***

Violet glanced at the clock. She had spent about an hour introducing Courtney to everything in their suite, as well as the most important computer systems. It seemed like the blonde was picking it up well enough, but Violet could also sense that she was getting tired and overwhelmed. 

It was understandable, but annoying, since Violet knew how rare it was for Fame not to be in the office. 

She checked her phone, a text from Juju’s assistant telling Violet that Fame was safely in the chair at the salon, and Violet decided that it was time to throw Courtney a treat. 

“Courtney. Get your things, come with me and I’ll give you a tour of the building.”

“Yes!” Courtney smiled brightly, pumping her fist and grabbing her things, relieved to be allowed away from her desk.

***

Courtney hadn’t seen much of Galactica so far, and as she followed behind Violet, she felt like she was being swallowed up by a world of white. Everything at Galactica was kept sparkling clean, the floors in some places so newly polished, Courtney could see her own face.

The only thing breaking up the monotony of the long hallways and immaculate conference rooms were giant pieces of art that hung on the walls, Violet offhandedly naming painters and artists like Courtney was supposed to know who they were. 

Violet showed her the office supply closets, the boring interior of it, shelves stuffed with post-its and binder clips almost seeming wrong in a place that was otherwise so slick and fashionable, before opening the door to “Max’s studio,” where some kind of photo shoot was in progress, a few models in chairs getting made up. Courtney watched for a few moments, a secret thrill rippling through her at the thought of someday being in one of those chairs, before Violet shut the door again, pulling her farther down the hall.

“What was that shoot for?!” Courtney asked excitedly. “Do we ever get to-”

“This...” Violet cut Courtney off, completely ignoring her. “Is Raja Amrull’s office. Her assistant’s name is Ivy, and she’ll be the closest thing you have to a coworker here.” Violet pushed a door open, and as Courtney stepped inside, she felt like she was taken to another world.

Raja’s office was filled with plants, the white walls and somewhat sterile look of the rest of the company exchanged with a lush explosion of warm colors. The assistant’s desk was heavy oak, while the cream white couch of Fame’s waiting area was replaced with a deep brown leather one that stood on top of what Courtney could only assume was a real Persian rug.

“As you can see, Raja doesn’t share Fame’s appreciation for Scandinavian design.” Violet smiled, and Courtney was pretty sure that Violet had just made a joke.

She was just about to open her mouth when they were interrupted by a redhead who came through the door from the outside.

“Violet!” 

“Hello Ivy.”

Ivy was absolutely stunning. Her copper red hair was collected on top of her head, and she was wearing a beautiful green pantsuit that suited her perfectly.

“Ivy, Courtney, Courtney, Ivy. It’s her first day.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Ivy held her hand out, a smile on her face as she shook Courtney’s, leaning in with a conspiratorial wink. “I know it can be a bit much when you start here, so let me know if there’s ever anything I can do to help you.” 

Courtney just about swooned in gratitude, Ivy’s warm and caring nature so immediately different from anything else she’d experienced all day. 

“I’m showing her around,” Violet explained. 

“Do you want to check out the styling closets?” Ivy asked, a twinkle in her eye as she confided, “My favorite place in the company.” 

“Sure!” 

Violet checked the clock on her phone screen, sighing slightly, as Ivy led Courtney through a door in their suite to one of the most amazing sights Courtney had ever seen. When she imagined working at a famous fashion house,  _ this _ was what she’d fantasized about. Racks and racks of clothes in every color, hundreds of shoes lining the shelves, every accessory you could ever want. Courtney’s mouth opened in delight; she had to resist the impulse to clap her hands and jump up as down like a child. 

“This is incredible!” 

“I know, right? Our own little slice of paradise,” Ivy said. “You know, sometimes when I’m cleaning things out, there are pieces up for grabs. I could maybe-” 

“Thanks Ivy, that’s enough” Violet said. She leaned in to Ivy, muttering under her breath, “Let’s get her through the week before we promise her perks.” 

“Violet,” Ivy admonished gently, eyes sparkling, but she went along with the request, closing the door. 

“Wait, you mean we get to-” Courtney began. 

“Courtney, come. We have a lot more ground to cover,” Violet said, ushering her out the door and down a flight of stairs. 

Courtney followed along, feeling a bit more excited after what she’d just seen—the photo shoot and the amazing closet. Maybe this job  _ would _ be exciting and glamorous after all. 

“The 24th floor is basically everything not directly related to fashion and design,” Violet was explaining. “HR, accounting, operations. You should be sure to make friends with Shangela, the Director of Operations. She’d been here forever and knows pretty much everything about the management side of things.” 

Violet opened the doors to a large bullpen. It was still white and slick like the floor above, but slightly busier, more office-like. Open cubicles with shining white desks, people bustling around, larger offices lining 3 of the walls, light pouring in from the big windows filling the 4th. 

“Here we have marketing, which is led by Alyssa Edwards, whom you’ll get to meet soon enough.” Violet said, walking briskly through the space. 

Courtney nodded, almost running a little to keep up with her, silently cursing herself for the sky-high stilettos she had worn for her first day - she would have loved to wear her 3-inch pumps, but after her interview she knew they wouldn’t cut it. But Courtney had no idea there would be this much walking in an assistant job; in her mind it had been a job mostly about sitting at a desk, fielding calls from designers and the press and being pretty.

“This is PR and social media. Pearl Liaison, who oversees that department, is notoriously difficult to get a hold of. She spends very little of her time at the office.”

“Where does she spend her time then?”

“Pearl goes to every fashion related event in New York City. She usually covers everything that Fame or Raja are either too busy to attend, or simply don’t care for.”

“Do we ever get to go to parties for Galactica? Like, as assistants?”

“No.”

“Oh…” Courtney bit her lip, a little disappointed.

“If you desperately need Pearl, tweet her.”

“Tweet her?”

“I’m trying to teach her to accept calls like a normal person.” 

“Wait.” It almost looked like Violet was smiling, and Courtney suddenly remembered that she was pretty sure she had seen the woman in question before at the club. “Pearl? Isn’t she the one who-”

“Shangela!” Violet exclaimed, turning from Courtney towards a beautiful black woman in a pink skirt suit. “This is Courtney, Miss Fame’s new assistant.” 

Shangela gave Courtney a quick once-over before shaking her hand. “Welcome aboard. You’re in good hands.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Violet, I know you’re still waiting on her to agree to pushing the Tuesday meeting, but I really think it’s important,” Shangela said. “Jaida and I need time to revise everything—you know what a mess everyone has been, we barely even have rough numbers.” 

“I’ll do my best,” Violet said. 

“Thanks, love.” Shangela gave her an air kiss and continued on her way. 

“Okay, so-” Violet said, approaching the door to the stairwell again. 

“What’s that?” Courtney asked, pointing to a room where several employees were gathered around an espresso machine. 

“The breakroom. You won’t be needing it,” Violet told her, pointing towards the stairs. “This way.” 

They took one more flight down and Courtney could tell from the way Violet’s face got a bit dreamy that there was something truly spectacular underway.

“Twenty-three is where the major creative work takes place. The executives for our makeup line have an office here, and design-”

“Makeup?! Here?!” Courtney squealed.

“Where else?” 

Courtney knew, of course, that Galactica had a makeup line—a very high-end, exclusive one that she couldn’t afford herself, but she’d assumed that it was all done in some factory somewhere. The idea of having it in the same office was terribly exciting. 

“Here’s where the designers work,” Violet said, pulling open a set of heavy doors, just as her phone buzzed in her hand. “Sorry, I have to- Hold that thought.”

Courtney tried to see the text that Violet received, but the other girl was too fast.

“Fuck! Courtney. Come with me!” Violet let the door to design close heavily, barely offering Courtney a glance inside, turning and racing back up the stairs in a panic.

“Violet, what’s wrong?!” Courtney ran after her as fast as she could, but the other girl was taking the stairs two at a time. 

“Fame is on her way, her driver just texted me and she got in a taxi while he was circling the block, now come on.” Violet rattled it off, words falling from her like a waterfall, Violet barely even sounding out of breath.

“Is the tour over?” Courtney asked, panting. Damn, she was fast. 

“What do you think?” Violet replied, her voice exasperated, her tone sharp as she rattled off orders. “Go to the coffee shop in the lobby, pick up a fresh latte, the barista will know her order. You’ll need to pick up breakfast from 10 too. Can you handle that?”” 

“From 10?”

“The tenth floor, are you even listening to-” Violet groaned, and turned on the stairs. “Courtney. I’m only going to ask you this once. Get your shit together, and get it together now.”

“I’m sorry!”

Courtney felt sweaty and disheveled by the time they made it back to their office, Violet throwing open a drawer and pulling out a wad of cash. She stuffed it into Courtney’s dress pocket and then shoved her out the door. 

“Lobby, then 10! I’ll text you the order. Run!” 

Courtney ran. By the time she’d gotten to the lobby, she had a series of texts from Violet with detailed instructions: exactly what the coffee order was ( _ medium double extra hot skinny vanilla unsweetened almond milk latte, cold foam and 2 shakes of cinnamon _ ), to remember to get a receipt and tip the barista ( _ WRITE THE TIP AMOUNT ON THE RECEIPT _ ), a reminder about Fame’s breakfast ( _ her order’s been called in but you need to double check that it’s correct: egg whites scrambled with mushrooms and spinach, sliced tomatoes instead of toast, side of avocado--make sure it is SEPARATE and not touching the other food or it’ll get warm and she HATES warm avocado, small fruit salad with NO pineapple also in a separate container _ ), and one last reminder, in case Courtney had forgotten the main objective, to  _ HURRY!!!  _

She was in such a panic going back that when the elevator doors opened and she raced back towards the office, she didn’t even notice the imposing figure in a cream-colored coat strolling through the lobby. 

When she did, attempting to stop short so that she wouldn’t crash into the woman, she had too much forward momentum to stop, and then everything happened in slow motion…

She stumbled in her heels, squeezing the paper coffee cup in her hand just enough so that the lid popped open, sending half of the contents sailing through the air, landing directly on said cream-colored coat. 

As Courtney stood there in horror, blood rushing to her ears, Fame turned around, noticed the stain, and gave her a look that made her want to disappear more than she ever had in her life. 

Heart pounding, Courtney opened her mouth to speak, to apologize, but nothing came out. Instead, the next word either of them uttered was when Fame turned away from her in a fury, and shouted, 

_ “VIOLET!” _


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Courtney started learning the Galactica ropes, and had a bit of a mishap with Fame’s coffee order. 
> 
> This Chapter: Violet deals with the fallout from Courtney’s accident and prays that they’ll all make it through the day alive.

_ “VIOLET!” _

The blood turned to ice in Violet’s veins at the sound of her name. 

She rose from the desk, where Fame’s dishes were patiently waiting for Courtney to get her ass back upstairs with the food, and hurried into the hallway. Her eyes bulged at the sight of a terrified Courtney, a half-empty coffee cup in one hand, and to-go bag from the cafeteria in the other—but something worse, much worse, was a giant brown stain on Fame’s one of a kind creamy white hand-bleached merino cape, which she shrugged off and tossed to Violet like it was a rag. 

“Who is this clumsy, slack-jawed imbecile?” Fame asked icily.

Violet knew better than to answer that question, but Fame expected her to say something, and all Violet could do was attempt to salvage the situation.

“Let me take your cape, Miss.” Violet snatched the breakfast out of Courtney’s hand and hissed under her breath, “Get her a new latte  _ right away _ .” 

Courtney’s big green eyes were misty and full of fear. Violet could tell that she was ready to burst into tears, but she didn’t have time to deal with her anxiety. She had enough on her plate already. 

“I-”

“ _ Go! _ ”

Violet turned on her heel, quickly following Fame into her office. She plated her breakfast in record time, hoping that the food would somewhat appease her, even as Fame made a disgusted face at the (now lukewarm) latte, holding out the cup and proclaiming, “trash,” which Violet figured was nice of her under the circumstances.

She took the cup from her hands and dropped it into the trash, putting her breakfast down in front of her, beside the napkin-wrapped cutlery. 

“I’m having lunch with Bianca at Café Boulud. I need a table.” Violet nodded. It was one of the more popular cafes in Manhattan, but the head waiter loved Bianca, so if she texted Bianca’s assistant they could probably get in. “Arrange a meeting with Trixie before I leave. Full status report and if he likes his job he’s bringing whatever samples they have. After lunch, I expect to see the progress that Alyssa’s team has made on the new campaign.” 

“Yes, Miss.” Violet placed a glass on Fame’s desk, filling it with some Pelligrino from her mini-fridge, hoping that the fresh coffee would arrive quickly. 

“Tell Alaska that I’m still waiting on the swatches for the new palettes. Have them before the end of the day. That’s all.” 

Violet nodded, relieved. It would be hell to get all of this done before Courtney returned, but she could do it, the storm almost over. Violet turned to leave, when she was stopped by a silky smooth voice.

“Oh, and Violet…”

_ Shit. _ She turned back around. 

“When I approved this new assistant,” Fame tapped a pen against her desk. “I expected a competent adult, not a moronic child who can’t complete a simple coffee order without a disaster. She is your responsibility to manage and train, and every single thing she does reflects on you. Do you understand?” 

Violet knew that the question was rhetorical, so she just nodded, backing away slowly as Fame turned to her computer. 

After calling the dry cleaners to request an emergency rush on the cape, Violet dialed a different number.

“Reception...”

“Roxy.” 

“Oh, hey Violet. Have you died yet?” 

"Almost. That new assistant? Courtney? She's a hot mess and Miss Fame is pissed-"

"Yeah, I saw," Roxy chuckled, and Violet just knew she was checking out her nails. “I’m honestly shocked she’s still alive.”

"You need to take her off my hands for a few hours, or we could be in serious shit-"

"Fuck my life,” Roxy groaned. “You expect me to babysit?"

"Do you want a Christmas 2013 Fame stomping around?" Violet asked pointedly.

"No," Roxy said with a resigned sigh. 

"Show her the phone system, teach her how to schedule. I don’t care, as long as you keep her out of trouble.”

***

Courtney’s heart pounded as she peeked timidly around the corner into her office, fresh latte in her hands. It had taken way too long to get it, waiting in line at the shop one of the most intense forms of torture Courtney had ever tried.

Violet noticed her immediately, walking over and taking the cup, a stern expression on her face. 

“Am I gonna get fired?” Courtney whispered, tears brimming in her eyes again. She’d promised herself downstairs that she wouldn’t cry, but it looked like she’d be breaking that promise. Just one more failure on top of all her others today. 

Violet seemed to take pity on her for a second, expression softening as she said, “Not just yet.” 

“Violet, I’m so sorry, I-” 

“I know.” Violet pressed Fame’s cape and a note into her hands. “Take this to Fame’s cleaners right away - the address is on the paper, and so is the account number. Make sure you ask for Anthony, he’s the manager and he knows it’s a rush job.” 

“Okay,” Courtney said, swallowing down the lump in her throat. 

“It’s best if you stay out of sight for a little while. When you get back, our receptionist, Roxy, will show you how the phones work and how to set up conference calls and roll with Fame.”

Courtney nodded, about to leave when she grasped Violet’s arm and said, “I  _ really _ need this job.”

“We all need something, Courtney.” 

Violet turned and walked towards Fame’s door with the coffee, and Courtney headed for reception, blinking back tears. While she didn’t think that being exiled was a good sign, she had to admit that she was a bit relieved to be out of Fame’s presence for the rest of the morning. 

***

In spite of Roxy’s aloof, chilly demeanor, Courtney found herself liking her. She took her through the phone system, showing her how everything worked—it was slow enough that Courtney followed, but not so slow that she felt patronized. Roxy even had Courtney try answering for awhile to practice, until she felt comfortable enough that Roxy could actually take a bathroom break. 

When she came back, she showed Courtney the shared calendar system that Violet had briefly sped through that morning, and this time around, it made a lot more sense. 

The only moment of anxiety happened a few hours later, when Fame once again strolled through reception towards the elevators, wearing an entirely different cream wrap. Courtney froze, praying that she wouldn’t give her another death glare, but to her relief, Fame never so much as glanced her way. 

Her heart was just returning back to its resting rate when Violet appeared before her. 

“Come on,” the brunette said. “I’m taking you to lunch.” 

***

Violet had rarely felt so relieved to be sent down for lunch. But the morning had been harrowing, and Roxy told her that Courtney had done really well on phones, so she decided that a little trip to the cafeteria would be acceptable. 

“So, Courtney,” Violet handed Courtney a container, the two of them standing side by side at the salad bar, “You can eat whatever you want, but never, ever, ever bring any type of fish, onions, or, really, anything that smells into the office. Fame is not above throwing your food away.”

Courtney laughed, and Violet smiled though Fame’s displeasure wasn’t really a laughing matter when you were on the receiving end of it. Violet was just about to continue to warn Courtney about garlic, when she felt the sensation of someone watching them. Violet looked around, her eyes falling on a large group of the building's typical corporate drones who was very very clearly ogling Courtney’s ass.

“Ah.” Violet should really have predicted this, but the coat incident had thrown her completely off her game. “I forgot about the suits.” 

“The suits?” Courtney asked, confused. 

“Galactica only owns the top 4 floors of this building.”

“Yeah?” 

“The other floors are taken up by your usual corporates. Law firms, investment companies and so on. I didn’t think when I took you here but most of their employees, for some godforsaken reason, see the cafeteria as a dating ground.” 

Violet rolled her eyes. It had caught her completely off guard when she was a new hire, and she didn’t want Courtney to deal with what she had gone through.

“If you work at Galactica, you’re already on the arm candy radar, and if you’re as beautiful as you are, there’s no way you won’t be a target.”

“Aww, you think I’m beautiful?” Courtney preened, and Violet wrinkled her brow. Had Courtney heard nothing else she had just said? “Thank you, Violet, I think you’re beautiful too-”

“This was a mistake,” Violet said, cutting her off as one of the suits broke free from the crowd and walked towards them. “Get your food, we’re leaving.” 

Violet quickly tossed a few spoonfuls of cucumber and broccoli into her container so they could pay and get out of the cafeteria. She was almost done when one of the suits sidled up beside her. 

“Hey, Violet.” 

“Hello Shawn,” she mumbled, gesturing for Courtney to hurry along. The blonde was carefully placing tomatoes in her salad as if she were painting a Picasso. If she would put that much attention to detail into her actual job, Violet would have her trained in no time. 

“So, seeing as how you never responded to my last 2 texts…” Shawn began.

There was a very specific reason for that. Shawn had asked Violet out for drinks. It hadn’t been entirely terrible, but she had no interest at all in repeating the experience. Shawn had talked about the car he was going to buy all through the evening, barely asking her a single question, and while the kiss goodnight had been brief, it had also been uncomfortably wet.

“How about you introduce me to your friend?” He raised his eyebrows. 

“No.”

“Funny as always, Violet. Thank god you’re pretty, huh?” Shawn turned to Courtney, holding out his hand. “Hi, beautiful. I’m Shawn.” 

“Hi, I’m Courtney,” she said, lashes fluttering. Violet bit her lip, a twinge of cringe shooting through her fingertips; if Courtney started dating a suit right out of the gate, it didn’t fare well for her ability to concentrate in the office.

“I’d love for us to be friends, Courtney. How do you like French wine?” 

“Love it,” Courtney cooed. “Why don’t you send me a bottle that I can share with my actual friends?” 

She sprinkled some sunflower seeds on her salad with a flourish and flounced away towards the register, not even looking back over her shoulder to see Shawn’s reaction. A few tables over, his buddies had burst out laughing at the rejection, jeering at him. 

Violet chuckled and followed Courtney to the register, relieved and maybe even a tiny bit proud. 

***

“So...what’s wrong?” Bianca asked, taking a sip of her wine. 

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” Fame asked, looking up at her friend who was in one of her bright yellow maxi dresses, her brown hair put up in an intricate bun, a patterned scarf tying it all in place.

Fame had expected, had hoped, for a nice meal at one of her favorite cafes with one of her favorite people, but the look in Bianca’s eyes were telling a very different story.

“Well...you’ve barely touched your salmon...” Bianca pointed. It was true that Fame had barely tucked into her dish, the grilled salmon on a bed of greens usually gone within minutes. “...and you have that look on your face.” 

“What look?” Fame asked crossly, putting down her fork and knife. It was so annoying when Bianca pretended to know her.

“ _ That _ look. The pouty one.”

“Do not,” Fame huffed. Actually, it was just as annoying when Bianca  _ did _ know her, the other woman always seeing right through her, but Fame refused to acknowledge that she was pouty, even if Bianca was probably right.

“Come on, what’s the problem?” Bianca reached over the table, touching her wrist. “Feeling tense?”

“I’m not-”

“Need a quickie in the bathroom?” Bianca licked her lips, mischief playing in her eyes.

“Don’t offer unless you’re prepared to deliver,” Fame deadpanned, stabbing a piece of carrot with her fork. 

“Ha!” Bianca threw back her head and cackled. Fame almost wanted to bristle, wanted to fight against the familiarity. 

It had been years since she and Bianca had slept together, over a decade actually, and still, the other always managed to get under her skin. 

“This is what I love about you, blondie. You know what you want.” Bianca grinned, dimples deep in her cheeks. 

“I usually do.” Fame took a delicate sip of her sparkling Voss water, eyes drifting out towards the window. 

“Okay, so...what’s on your mind?” 

“I’m just not sure if I’ve been fair with my employees.” Fame sighed. “Raja seemed upset with me this morning.”

“Raj was born holding a grudge.” Bianca popped a bit of bread in her mouth. 

Fame knew that Raja and Bianca loved each other, but she also knew that they were far too alike not to get on each other's nerves.

“Are you sure she hasn’t just had a tiff with her majesty?”

Fame hid a smile. Raja’s girlfriend was demanding, even commanding, but she also challenged Raja at every turn, the two actually keeping each other on their toes, which they both needed.

“No, I have been rather tough on them, with the spring line and-” 

“Is it working?” Bianca asked, ever the pragmatist. 

“Yes,” Fame’s lips curved up in a sly smile. “All of the new stuff...it’s fabulous. I think you’re going to be very pleased.” 

Bianca had always been supportive of Fame, but never gave unearned praise—in many ways, her rise to editor-in-chief of  _ Marie Claire _ had coincided with Galactica’s own meteoric rise to prominence. 

There was that one less-than-glowing review, years ago, and it had taken Patrick, Juju and four smashed plates before Fame had finally calmed down enough to admit that Bianca’s criticism was perhaps not unfair. 

Not that Fame had admitted to it. She had made Bianca suffer through the silent treatment for a month until they had bumped into each other at a party, and Fame had realized how much she had missed her friend.

“Well, alright then! So...come on. Show me the goods...” 

“Hmm, no,” Fame smirked. She so rarely had something Bianca wanted, something she could tease her with, torment her with, and the power was so very sweet. “I think I’ll let you wait and be surprised at the runway show.” Fame took a bite of her salmon, her bad mood suddenly gone.

“Excuse me! I’m the only one who supported your opinions on the old crap-”

“I know, and I thank you, my darling…” Fame put a hand on top of Bianca’s, gazing warmly into her eyes. 

“So I deserve a peek!” 

“I don’t think so,” Fame shook her head. 

“Show me!” 

“You’re so impatient,” Fame said, twirling her wine glass by the stem. 

“Hmph.” Bianca crossed her arms. “I bet if I were some 25 year old blonde you could order around, you’d show me  _ everything _ .” 

Fame narrowed her eyes. She had told Bianca about Pearl in confidence, the number of people who knew the truth about the inner workings of Fame and Patrick’s marriage and specific proclivities very small. The number of people whom she’d tolerate teasing her about it? Even smaller. But then, she and Bianca had always had a very  _ special _ bond. 

Besides, if anyone could understand a taste for young blondes, it was Bianca.

“You’re one to talk,” Fame said. 

“I have no idea what you’re referring to,” Bianca said, lips pursed. 

“Oh yeah? How’s  _ Derrick? _ ”

“Derrick is almost 30,” Bianca informed her. 

“Ancient!” Fame’s eyes glittered with mischief. 

“And...I think that’s over anyway.”

Fame sighed, suddenly feeling a little bad about bringing her up. 

“B...I really wish you’d get serious about someone. Don’t you think it’s time to settle down? You’re turning 40 in a few months.” 

“Don’t remind me!” Bianca groaned, downing the last of her wine. 

Fame smiled softly. Her friends were everything to her. All she wanted was for them to be happy, but Bianca had always been so difficult to pin down, more interested in the thrill of the chase than spending time building a loving, long-term relationship. Even though, if you asked Fame, she had so much love to give. But Fame couldn’t remember the last time she’d even used the word “girlfriend.” 

After a pause, Bianca reached out to take Fame’s hand again. Fame looked up at her, prepared for a heartfelt comment of some kind. Instead— 

“Can I see the new collection?” 

Fame burst out laughing, shaking her head. 

“No!” 

“You’re an evil bitch, blondie.”

“Aww… I love you too, B.” 

***

Courtney was nearly done with her salad when the door to their office opened, startling her. She shoved the container, fork and all, into the trash and regretted it immediately, but Violet had already made her excruciatingly paranoid about being caught eating by Fame. 

“Courtney, what are you doing-” Violet groaned, but she was caught off when a gorgeous blonde in leather shorts and a loose gray tank top sailed in. 

Courtney sheepishly fished her fork out of the trash can, trying to remember the name of this girl—she knew that she was on that directory list, and someone important. They had definitely danced drunkenly together at least once, but Courtney doubted that names were exchanged.

“Violet, my darling Violet, have I told you your beauty is akin to the sun,” she said grandly, arms open wide, a big smile on her face as she sauntered towards Violet’s desk.

“What do you want, Pearl?” Violet sighed. 

Pearl! That’s who that was. 

“Please don’t tell me you deleted all of your emails again. I’m not I.T., I can’t fix those things.”

“You wound me.”

Pearl smiled, everything about her reminding Courtney of a giant cat. As far as Courtney could remember, the woman, Pearl, was in charge of social media...or something. She looked very young, probably mid twenties if Courtney had to guess, and she couldn’t help but be impressed that she was the head of a department. 

“Can’t I visit the loveliest girl in the entire company with pure intentions?” 

If anyone had said anything like that to Courtney, she wouldn’t have been able to look away, but Violet simply rolled her eyes and returned to her computer, which only made Pearl laugh. She took a seat on the edge of Violet’s desk, her eyes landing on Courtney for the first time since she arrived.

"And who do we have here?”

“I’m Court-”

“You must be the new girl I’ve been hearing about downstairs, Cassidy, Chelsea, Kelsey? You’re Adore Delano’s friend, correct?”

"Yes!” Courtney smiled, thankful someone finally recognized her. 

“I never forget a good dancer.” Pearl smirked.

“My, umh, my name is Courtney, I’m Miss Fame’s new assistant.” 

"Well, my name is Pearl Liaison,” Pearl pushed a bit of her hair behind her ear. “I’m head of PR & Social Media.”

“Oh, no, I know, Violet already told me.”

“Really?” Pearl smiled, her entire face lighting up. “Are you spreading rumours about me ViVi?”

"Not my name.” Violet looked up from her computer. “According to the schedule, you don’t have any meetings with Fame today? She’s not here.”

“I actually came for- Umh...” Pearl pushed away from the desk and stood up. “Do you have a minute?”

Pearl tilted her head towards Fame’s office, and Violet looked up at her crossly. 

“ _ One _ minute,” she said, following Pearl inside and telling Courtney, “We’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” Courtney said, a bit enthralled. 

What kind of private business would they have that required them to go into Fame’s office? Courtney was pretty sure that Violet told her that she was never allowed to do that.

Violet followed behind Pearl, the blonde opening the door like she owned the entire company and thankfully for Courtney, she didn’t shut it fully behind her. 

Courtney craned her neck, barely catching a glimpse of Pearl and Violet, who were standing just inside of Fame’s office. Courtney was just about to curse, when the sound of Pearl’s voice traveled clear as day through the crack in the door.

“So, I came up to see what your plans were for this Friday?”

“Really? Well, If it involves going out to one of your ‘underground’ clubs, count me out. I’m still trying to recover from last week.” 

Courtney bit her lip. Violet sounded almost soft, her voice filled with a sweetness Courtney hadn’t heard from her since the bathroom when they’d met. Were Pearl and Violet dating? And why did that thought make her feel so strangely excited? Probably the secrecy of a forbidden office romance. 

"Not a club. I have something better and you’ll love me forever.”

“Pearl-”

“I have two press invites to the Vogue Fashion Fund Awards Show-”

“What- Really, I- The fashion fund?”

“Mmmh. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?” Pearl was nonchalantly inspecting the ends of her long hair, trying to pretend that she didn’t care about Violet’s response. “Plus, you know, it’s an excuse to wear some of those gorgeous dresses I know you have in your closet.”

“I guess I do have a dress or two…” Violet bit her lip. “Know what? Yes. Yes, I’d like to go with you Pearl. Thank you for asking.”

"Awesome!” Pearl smiled brightly, reaching out a hand to touch Violet’s arm. Courtney’s heart beat a little bit faster. Was Pearl going to kiss her? 

_ Oh god oh god oh god. _

Courtney’s mouth hung open, her heart almost skipping a beat, but then, Pearl kissed Violet’s cheek. “I’ll send you the details later.” 

Pearl threw open the door, and Courtney immediately turned back to her computer, pretending to type an email. 

“Nice meeting you, Courtney!” Pearl called as she exited, and Courtney waved back to her as if she’d forgotten she was there. 

As soon as she was out of earshot, Courtney turned to Violet, eyes big, thirsty for more details. 

“Oh. My. God. You guys are dating?!” she squealed softly. 

"Don't be ridiculous, she just invited me to an event as a work colleague."

"...but I thought you said that we don't go to events for Galactica?"

"Well. Work colleagues who occasionally socialize."

"You mean friends?" Courtney asked slowly. 

"Must you label everything?" Violet quickly looked away, the blush creeping back into her cheeks as she busied herself at her desk. “Weren’t you supposed to be heading to HR?”

Courtney had been completely lost wondering about the exact nature of Violet’s relationship with Pearl, and what exactly was making Violet’s cheeks so red, when she remembered that she was in fact supposed to be meeting with HR in two minutes.

“Shit!” she exclaimed, quickly gathering up her things. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Courtney’s first day ended less eventfully than it began (thank god), and Violet got a very enticing invite from Pearl.
> 
> This Chapter: Violet prepares for her big date, and we meet a ravishing supermodel.

Violet turned on the shower, her delicate hand testing the water, waiting for it to grow hot. She had occupied one of the bathrooms in the apartment, spending the evening on a self-pampering session that had been desperately needed. Who knew that having someone helping her do her job would create twice as much work? It was only the second day of having Courtney in the office, and Violet felt like a babysitter. No wonder her predecessor hadn’t stuck around to train her.

The bathroom was filled with the sweet scent of lavender as Violet had lit several candles.

Violet stepped into the spray, sighing in relief as the hot water beat down on her sore shoulders and back. So much had happened today, everything running around in her head as she released her hair, covered it in a hair mask. No matter how much she tried to keep her thoughts away, they kept turning to Pearl. Violet bit her lip. Pearl had asked her out. Actually asked her out. She turned around, letting the spray wash over her face, a flush creeping into her cheeks as she was aching with arousal. Pearl always tore her apart with a single look, and it was driving Violet insane. 

They had been so close in the office, Pearl’s hand so warm on her arm.

Violet bit her lip again, shame washing over her as she reached up and grabbed the shower head, leaning back against the wall. Was she really doing this? Her breath was already coming in short gasps as she spread the folds of her sex, careful not to damage herself with her perfectly manicured nails.

Pearl had smelled so good, ready to eat, sweet as a flower with her own scent lingering just underneath. Violet wanted nothing more than to bury her face in Pearl’s neck, disappear into the other’s hair. Violet knew with certainty that Pearl’s breasts would be perfect, they would fit so well in her hands, taste perfect if she kissed them. 

Violet moaned as the spray hit her, her entire body already humming. She wanted Pearl so badly, wanted to get fucked by the blonde like she had never wanted anyone else before.

“F-fuck… Fuck.”

Violet bit her lip hard, the steady and hard spray beating against her making her legs tremble, her tits so full, her nipples so hard they ached as she imagined what Pearl would look like between her legs. Violet clawed at the wall as orgasm hit her, her vision blinding out for a second which made her throw the shower head away, not even the high of her orgasm helping against the ice cold dread collecting in her stomach. 

She just had one of the best orgasms of her life thinking about Pearl and Violet had never been more fucked in her life.

***

Katya was humming to herself as she listened to “Dreaming” by Blondie on her headphones, making her way from the elevator to the design department at Galactica. It was Wednesday around lunch and Katya was finished with her half day at the community center. 

Katya sneaked into the design department, a big smile on her face when she realized that Trixie was bent over Jovan’s desk, completely gone from the world as he was busy doing the math for the pattern of a dress so it could be sent off to their tailors.

Katya giggled to herself, shushing everyone in the department she made eye contact with before placing her hands over Trixie’s eyes.

“Peek-a-boo, guess who!”

“Argh!” Trixie jumped, his knee slamming into the table he was sitting at. “Fuck!”

“Oh my god, babe, are you okay?”

They could hear laughter from all around them as everyone in the design department had seen the mishap, which made Trixie and Katya laugh as well. Katya giggled as she sat down next to Trixie, giving him a quick kiss.

“Hey…”

“Hey.” Trixie smiled, happy to see Katya who gently patted down his short brown hair, covering Trixie’s emerging bald spot. “What are you doing here?”

“I never see you anymore, so I brought lunch.”

Trixie nodded, stretching a little, his bones popping as he got into a proper upright position.

“I just need to finish this, okay? Then I’ll be there.”

Katya smiled, giving Trixie another kiss. “I’ll be in your office, but don’t take too long, or the food will get cold.” Katya discreetly showed Trixie the inside of her gigantic Hello Kitty bag and Trixie saw not one, not two, but three brown paper bags from McDonald’s.

“You know what, this can wait.”

Trixie's lunch break was spent in his office, Katya’s laptop on the table in front of them, playing  _ Pocahontas _ as they made their way through the greasy and, frankly, perfect food.

***

“Hieeeee…” 

A tall, statuesque blonde with huge hair, amazing pink Louboutins, and a turquoise pencil skirt stood in the doorway. 

Courtney looked up, grateful to have a distraction from the lecture she was getting on Violet about meeting protocols. She’d been drilling her about everyone’s refreshment preferences, getting extremely irritated when Courtney couldn’t remember whether Alyssa liked regular or sugar-free Red Bull, and even more annoyed when Courtney suggested that sometimes people’s tastes change, so she’d just bring in a bigger selection. 

“Hi, Alaska,” Violet said. “Are those the new samples?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Courtney grinned, eyes lighting up happily. Ah, this was the SVP of Cosmetics that she’d been excited to meet. Which meant that the bag in her hand was full of samples of their new makeup line. Courtney was practically dancing in her seat as she held out her hand. 

“Hi! I’m Courtney, Miss Fame’s new assistant!” she chirped, and Alaska turned to her with a bright smile. 

“Hello there, Courtney, I’m Alaska. I absolutely adore that top! What a great print!” 

Courtney glanced down at her shirt, a fitted button-down in purple paisley for which Violet had already expressed mild distaste. 

“Thank you so much,” Courtney said. “And I love your...everything.” 

Alaska laughed, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

“We’re gonna get along great.” 

“Courtney, why don’t you organize the samples and then I’ll show you how to do the swatch cards for Miss Fame,” Violet instructed. 

“Okay!” Courtney jumped up enthusiastically. 

***

“But that’s crazy! How many do you throw away every day?” 

Violet let out an aggravated groan. She was filling Courtney in on how she could best make sure she always had fresh, hot coffee on hand for Miss Fame. Only Courtney didn’t seem to appreciate the advice at all. Actually, she just seemed horrified. 

“It’s not about how many we throw away,” Violet snapped. “It’s about always being prepared.” 

“She can’t wait 10 minutes for coffee when she wants it?” Courtney folded her arms, a skeptical expression on her face. 

“No!” God, why must Courtney be such a  _ child? _

“Well...I mean, I’m not trying to judge you, but I can’t do that in good conscience. The waste would keep me up at night. You must be throwing away at least 10 cups every day. Right?” 

Violet glared at her, trying to resist the strong desire to trip Courtney up on purpose, when the phone rang. 

“Miss Fame’s office.” Violet pressed the phone in between her shoulder and ear. “Oh, hello Roxy.” Violet tapped away at her computer. “Yes, yes she’s here. No, Fame is in a meeting with Raja-”

Courtney had wanted to duck beneath her desk when Raja had walked into their office earlier that day, a large folder under her arm, her steps filled with a level of authority that quite frankly scared Courtney. She would be terrified of Raja, if it wasn’t for the fact that Ivy was always right behind her, the redhead's gentle smile like a balm on Courtney’s frazzled nerves. 

“We’ll make space for her right away.”

“Space?” Courtney hadn’t meant to reveal that she was listening in on Violet’s conversation.

Violet shot her an ice cold look, doing a zip it gesture with her fingers, and Courtney immediately shut up. As soon as she hung up, however, Courtney couldn’t keep her mouth closed any longer.

“Is Fame getting a visitor? Who is it? Is it someone famous?!”

“Fluff the pillows,” Violet pointed at the cream couch as she straightened up the magazines on the coffee table. “Quickly, please, Raven hates if they’re not perfectly-”

“Raven?!” Courtney squealed. “Raven  Petruschin?!”

“Is there anyone else by that name on the approved list?” Violet shot her a glance, and it was in that exact moment that they were interrupted.

“My my my.” 

Courtney turned around to see a stunning woman leaning against the doorframe. She had some of the most perfect lips Courtney had ever seen, her nude lipstick effortlessly accentuating how pillowy soft they looked. She had steel grey eyes, long black straight hair cascading down her back.

“What have we here?” She was wearing a beige bodycon dress, the fabric hugging her in all the right places. She pushed away from the frame, putting her black Chanel sunglasses in her hair, a Birkin bag dangling from her wrist. She smiled, the diamonds in her ears catching the light.

“Hello Raven. What a pleasant surprise.” Violet smiled as she straightened her back. “Can I get you a refreshment?” 

“Oh. Yes please.” Raven walked right past Courtney, not even acknowledging her existence as she sat down on the couch, leaning against the pillow Courtney had just fluffed. “I’m on a rehydration diet so water would be great. Non-tap, of course. Evian if you have it, with a couple of lime slices.”

“Coming right up.” Violet nodded and disappeared into the tiny kitchenette that was connected to their office.

“Oh my gosh, you’re… you’re Raven….” Courtney’s mouth hung open, complete awe on her face as she watched the tall, dark-haired woman sit on the sofa.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Courtney!” Courtney smiled brightly as she stood up, extending her hand towards Raven for a handshake which Raven reluctantly took. “I’m Miss Fame’s new assistant; Violet is training me!”

“Ah.” Raven took Courtney’s hand in hers. Her skin was incredibly soft, her manicure done to perfection and Courtney had to resist the desire to stroke it. “I’m Raven. but I guess you already knew that…” Raven smiled, her perfect face even more beautiful as she released Courtney’s hand.

“Are you kidding me? Seriously, oh my gosh. I admire your work so so much!” 

“Is that so?” Raven asked. 

“Yes! In year 7, I had one of your Vogue covers in my locker! You’re such an icon, I always wanted to be just like you when I grew up!”

Raven’s eyes narrowed slightly, breaking out into an icy smile; there was nothing more irritating to her than being reminded of her rapidly waning 20s. She instantly decided that she absolutely hated this cheap blonde.

“And look at you now,” she said smoothly. “Right in the thick of it.” 

“Yes, well…” Courtney laughed nervously. “It’s not quite like being Karl Lagerfeld's favorite muse, but we all gotta start somewhere, right?” 

Raven surveyed her critically, determined to find a flaw and to her delight, finding several.  _ Too talkative, too short, too blonde, too...fucking eager. _

“Indeed. And if Fame sees something in you...well, then I’m sure you have a very bright future.” Violet returned with the water, which Raven took with a small smile and an air kiss to Violet’s cheek. 

Courtney looked like a child on Christmas day, joy etched into her expression. 

“Is the meeting done soon? I’ve tried texting Raja, but she hasn’t replied yet…” Raven almost pouted, a hint of annoyance playing in her voice.

“Let me check for you.” Violet smiled up at Raven, all pleasant manners and perfect politeness. “Ah. The meeting is almost over, so I’m sure Raja will be with you shortly-”

Just then, the door to Fame’s office opened to reveal Ivy, who shot an apologetic smile at them. 

“Violet!” Fame’s voice traveled into the office. “Violet come in here!” 

Violet grabbed her notebook, already standing up but she had apparently been too slow, since Fame was already at the door.

“Why are you not ready, Violet? Do you have anything more important to do-” Fame trailed off. “Raven! Hello dear. What are you doing here? Have we kept you waiting? Violet, you know Raven is on the approved list, why is she waiting?”

“Raven wante-”

“It’s my fault!” Raven quickly stepped in, a sweet smile on her face. 

“Princess, is that you?” Raja appeared in the door, her entire face lighting up when she saw Raven, and quickly went over to kiss her.

Raven put her arms around Raja’s neck, the two women locking lips for way longer than what was appropriate in a workplace environment. Courtney’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.

“Hey.” Raven smiled, her fingers curled in the cobalt blue of Raja’s silk shirt. “I’m here to take you out for lunch.”

“Are you now?” Raja smirked, amusement clear in her face. 

Courtney was completely enthralled, watching the two gorgeous women stand so close together their chests were touching, Raja’s hands resting on Raven’s hips. 

“I guess we do have something to celebrate.” 

“You two are too much.” Fame sighed, but she was clearly happy, Courtney barely recognizing the relaxed expression on her boss’s face. 

Courtney heard a ding from her computer, and it was in that moment that she had realized Violet was furiously DM’ing her on the company network, telling her in increasingly frustrated messages to look away and not intrude on the conversation of their direct superiors.

“Can’t I be interested in spending lunch with my fiancée?”

Fame stopped, and then, Courtney saw the weirdest thing yet at Galactica.

“Oh my god!” Fame jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “Raja, oh!” Fame ran over, throwing her arms around Raja and Raven, hugging them both close. “Oh congratulations, my darling!”

Raja laughed, and if Courtney hadn’t been so caught up in following the scene like it was a bizarre improv piece, she would have noticed Violet blushing before she quickly ducked her head, very pointedly looking anywhere but at the scene in front of them. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Fame kissed Raja’s cheek, a laugh leaving her. “Let me see the rings! Quickly!”

Raven held out her hand, and Fame grabbed it. Courtney hadn’t noticed it when Raven walked in, but it was true that she was wearing a stunning diamond with a platinum band, her manicure actually matching it perfectly now that she was paying attention.

“It’s custom made.” Raven sighed, happiness radiating from her while Raja chuckled.

“You know what they say, happy wife, happy life.”

“Urg. Marry me before you resort to cliches.”

“I fully intend to.” Raja put her arm around her waist, Fame still holding Raven’s hand in her own.

Raven rolled her eyes before she turned her attention to Fame, though the smile didn’t budge from her face.

“Wait until you see Raja’s, Fame.” Raven leaned her head on her fiancée’s shoulder. “At first, she told me she didn’t want a ring-”

Raja shrugged, the argument clearly one that had already been rehashed between them.

“But I told her, I told her that if I’m getting a ring, so is she. I can’t have anyone thinking she isn’t taken.”

“Anyone who has been online knows she’s not.” Fame smiled. “So, any big plans for the wedding yet?”

“Oh I’ve barely even thought about it,” Raven said with a wink, everything about her very clearly telling that she was lying through her teeth. 

Fame laughed loudly. “Get out of here you two-” She waved her hand, clearly dismissing them. “Actually-” Fame paused. “Raja, take the day off.”

“But what about the work-”

“That can wait.” Fame touched Raja’s elbow. “This is the first time you’ve gotten engaged.”

“You mean only time she’s getting engaged.” Raven threw her hair over her shoulder, leaving the office while Raja hung back to gather her things.

“Call that journalist who wanted that interview and tell them I need an extra 10 minutes.”

“Yes Miss!”

Fame turns to leave.”Oh, and Courtney?”

“Yes Miss?”

“It’s impolite to stare. That’s all.” Fame went into her office, closing the door. 

Courtney’s eyes bulged. Had she been staring? She was just so surprised. 

She had no idea that Raja was even gay, and now she found out that she was engaged? To a supermodel? It was thrilling! But the thought that anyone noticed her reaction was so embarrassing. She turned to Violet, hoping for some reassurance, but found no such thing, the brunette glaring at her venomously. 

“I am going to kill you,” Violet proclaimed. 

***

“Violet?” Max knocked on her door. “Violet are you in there?”

Max had only meant to be a good neighbor when he had grabbed Violet’s package from the reception, the brown box too big for her to carry on her own, but it seemed like she wasn’t home, and now he had the dilemma of what he should do with the box, since he couldn’t just leave.

Max was just about to give up, when the door opened, the sight of Violet in nothing but a cream silk robe, heels and lace underwear greeting him.

“Oh thank God!”

Before Max knew it, Violet had grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. 

“I need your help.”

“My help?” Max put the box down. He hadn’t been inside of Violet’s apartment since the housewarming, and nothing had changed except for a set of curtains that Max knew had haphazardly been put up by Katya. 

“Which dress should I wear?”

It was then that Max noticed three dresses that had been hung up over the bathroom door.

“Oh.” Max looked at them. He knew Violet had exquisite taste in clothes, the assistant one of his favorite Galactica employees to watch, but seeing her date night options side by side was a pleasure in itself.

“So you’re going to the Vogue Fashion Fund?”

“I am.” Violet slipped out of her robe and hung it up on the door handle. From anyone else, the move could have seemed sexual, but Violet had been on shoots with Max, and had seen with her own eyes how he normally behaved around naked woman, so it wasn’t too weird. Max was pretty sure Violet assumed he was gay, and even though that wasn’t the truth, he wasn’t going to tell her that it was more that he wasn’t interested in anyone period. 

“And you’re going with Pearl?”

“She’s picking me up in an hour.” Violet smiled.

Max bit his lip. He knew that Violet liked Pearl, really liked Pearl.

It was written all over her entire face every time she looked at the blonde, how she would blush and stammer; how shy she could get. Pearl was the only one Max knew who could make Violet lose the air of pleasant politeness, and he was pretty sure that Pearl had no idea about her power.

Max loved Pearl with all his heart, he would go through fire for her, but Pearl wasn’t a good person when it came to how she treated women. 

Max had seen Pearl parade girl after girl around, had seen model after model getting their heart broken, how Pearl could treat a girl like a queen one day and completely ignore her the next. 

But if Pearl had invited Violet out, that had to mean something, even if Max wasn’t sure what.

“So, which one do you like?” Violet held two of the dresses up, one of them a silver knee length number with a fitted skirt, while the other was a delightful light pink with long sleeves and flowy details.

Max wanted to tell Violet how Pearl could also be, but as he looked at her face, as he saw the genuine enthusiasm, he just couldn’t do it. 

“What about the silver?”

“You think?” Violet took it down from the door and slipped into it, the dress fitting her like a glove. 

“You look stunning.” Max walked behind her, grabbing the zipper and zipping her up.

Violet was old enough to make her own mistakes, and maybe, just maybe Violet was what Pearl needed.

***

“Violet, come on! We’re going to be late, the car is waiting!” Pearl checked her bag one last time. Phones, press badges, wallet and camera. 

Pearl had already made a deal with one of her photographer friends and brought some of his red carpet pictures, so she didn’t have to worry about that, but a good journalist never went anywhere without the proper equipment, and there wasn’t much Pearl actually excelled at. 

“Violet!” Pearl knocked again, harder this time. “Violet! Now!”

Pearl was beyond excited to take Violet on a night out. Fashion Fund tickets weren’t exactly easy to come by, so when one had dumped into her lap, she knew exactly who she had wanted as her plus one.

Pearl loved watching Violet enjoy fashion, the way her eyes lit up, the way she smiled, the way it was the only thing she could go on and on about.

Pearl wanted to share that with Violet, and if this meant that Violet would finally see her as someone who was taking her seriously, that would only be a bonus.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Pearl was just about to make a sex joke, when Violet opened the door, and Pearl felt the breath get knocked from her lungs. 

Viole was absolutely beautiful, a vision in pale purple and sparkling silver. Her long black hair was artfully curled, a single hair clip holding the locks away from her face. Her usual light pink lipstick was replaced with a daring red, and Pearl wanted to kiss her 

“I can’t really run in these.” Violet gestured to her shoes, her usual black Louboutins exchanged with a silver Jimmy Choo. “Do I look okay?” 

Violet stopped in front of Pearl, turning around to show off her outfit.

Pearl nodded, still slightly lost for words. 

“Oh thank God.” Violet smiled, clearly relieved. “I was worried I’d be too casual or too formal, but judging from the gown you have on.” Violet grabbed her jacket from the hook on the door and pulled it on, taking a step out of the door which made Pearl take one back.

“You, umh, you look really beautiful…” Violet blushed and Pearl laughed, Violet’s insecurity and her quick, almost tumbling way of talking endlessly entertaining. 

Pearl kissed Violet’s cheek, careful not to smudge her lipstick.

“Seems like I’ll be the luckiest girl at the party,” Pearl smiled.

“Why?”

“Because I’ll have you as my date.”


	12. Violet's New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Raja and Raven made their new engagement known, and Violet left for her much-anticipated date with Pearl.
> 
> This Chapter: Tears, misunderstandings, and a handsome stranger.

Violet had never felt more humiliated in her life.

The evening had gone so well at first, the two of them arriving at the red carpet, Pearl walking it while Violet had stayed behind. The prize ceremony had been amazing, their seats front and center which meant that Violet had had the chance to really see the winning designs, but then, everything had started going to hell the minute the after party started. 

Violet had volunteered to go get drinks for them, thinking that it was a date, an actual real date, but then when she came back Pearl had been dancing with a girl that Violet recognized as a manager from the Calvin Klein store, the two of them making out on the dance floor. 

The girl was tiny and curvy, her dress showing off her breasts, her short red hair framing her face perfectly. She was gorgeous, and suddenly Violet felt completely disgusting in her own body, too tall, too mannish, too thin. The girl was everything she was not, which made the fact that Pearl had chosen her even worse.

Shame had made Violet’s entire skin itch as she dropped the drinks, quickly making her way to the lounge, desperate to get away.

***

Violet was sitting in the corner of the main bar, doing her very best not to let anyone know she was crying.

She had stormed to the wardrobe, only to realise that Pearl had their number and that she couldn’t get her coat, the little clutch she had taken with her barely even containing her phone and a few dollars for tipping.

Violet could go to Pearl, should go to Pearl and demand to be given her coat, but there was no way she could look at the other woman without making a complete fool of herself.

“Hey lovely eyes-” Violet felt someone sit next to her. At first, she thought it was a mistake, that the stranger hadn’t actually been talking to her, but then, he continued, “how come you’ve got such lovely eyes?”

Violet snorted. She knew the stranger couldn’t see her eyes, her hair covering her face. “Did you come up with that all by yourself?”

“I did, thank you for noticing.” He replied, his voice dry but humorous. “Here.”

Violet saw a handkerchief making its way into her field of vision. It was a square of dark green fabric, but what Violet really noticed was the faded tattoos that swirled all over the strangers dark skin.

“Thank you…” Violet took it, their fingers touching for just a moment. She quickly dabbed her eyes, hoping that her mascara hadn’t run everywhere. “Not many people carry Frank Leder handkerchiefs.”

The stranger laughed, notes of surprise clear in the warm tones, and Violet felt a little bit better. It was nice to know that even though her evening had gone to shit, she had at least managed to make this kind stranger feel a little bit better.

“Can I-” She put the handkerchief down, not yet ready to look up, but she did want to do something for the man who Violet felt like was saving her. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“How about I get you one instead?” The warmth was still there, amusement playing just underneath the deep rumble of his voice, “and when I get back, you can tell me what’s wrong?”

Violet didn’t want to talk about her problems, didn’t want to let anyone in, but before she could protest, the man had already gotten out of his seat. Violet straightened her back, pushing her hair behind her ear. She took a deep breath, readying herself to thank him for his offer, but to also let him down gently.

“I got you some water, it’s not exactly a drink, but I figured you could use it.”

Violet turned, and that was when she saw him for the first time. 

She recognized him instantly. 

It was the same nose, the same height, the same eyes, the same build, the exact same skin tone.

“You’re Sutan Amrull.”

“Hello.” Sutan smiled. He was wearing a deep green suit, a bottle of water and a whiskey in hand.

Sutan was one of Elite Model Management best managers and scouts. He was a legende, his ability to find potential talent and then nurture them with his golden touch was something most scouts could only dream of. Everyone who was anything in Manhattan knew him, his models longed for and sought after and for their beauty, their personality but most importantly their work ethic.

“You’re Raja Amrull’s twin brother.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” 

Violet did the only thing she could think of. She snatched her clutch off the table, and tried to run.

“Hey!” Violet felt a hand on her arm. “Don’t run.”

“I-” Violet felt like she should be panicking, someone who was essentially a stranger holding her back, but she was in the middle of a party, she knew his sister, and even though he was touching her arm, Violet could barely feel the grip. “Okay.”

“I’m glad.” Sutan slowly released her, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. “You’re the first woman I’ve met who knows who I am that has tried to run away.” 

“I should really go.”

“At least have the drink with me.” Sutan nodded towards the bar, stopping himself as he looked at the selection, “or water, I guess.”

Violet’s night had already gone to shit, the memory of Pearl kissing another girl burned into her brain, so there was really no reason to say no.

“Thank you.”

Violet sat down, and Sutan did the same as he pushed the closed bottle of Pellegrino towards her.

“Now,” Sutan smiled, “since you apparently know my name, and who I am, can I have yours?”

“Violet, my name’s- I, umh. I’m Violet. Just Violet.”

“Hello Violet just Violet.” 

Violet shook her head, but she couldn’t help the smile that crept over her lips. 

She had seen Sutan before, of course she had. He was Raja’s twin brother, and Violet had dissapeared into the background at enough cocktail hours, event openings and parties to see the two of them standing side by side, both twins acting and looking like the rest of the world ceased to matter when the other one was there.

“I-” Violet looked over at Sutan, their eyes meeting, the man sipping his whiskey like he had all the time in the world to wait for her to speak up. “I didn’t mean for-“ Violet pauser. “I didn’t intend to freak out. Before, I mean-”

Sutan nodded, a faint hum coming from him.

“And I don’t usually cry at parties.”

“You don’t seem the type.”

Violet felt a strange sense of being seen, like Sutan was playing genuine attention to her, like he was actually looking at her and only her.

“Tonight has been, no, this entire week has been…” Violet sighed. “It’s been interesting, to say the least, and I-” Violet stopped herself, a huff of disbelief coming from her. “I can’t believe I’m actually telling you this.”

“Sounds like it needs to be said.” Sutan smiled, his head resting on his hand. “I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

Violet nodded. She could absolutely believe it, the man’s entire aura so different from his sister, Sutan almost like a warm crackling fire to Raja’s icy coolness. 

“No one, especially a stunning woman on a night of joy, deserves to sit alone and cry.”

Violet laughed, but as she watched Sutan’s face, he seemed entirely serious.

“Oh…”

“Drink your water, talk to me if you want, and when you’re done, I’ll get you a car. Okay?”

Violet bit her lip. She had been on her own for a long long time. Sure, she had had the other students and the teachers at the academy after she turned 13, but she couldn’t remember anyone ever looking at her like Sutan did. 

“Thank you.”

Violet had never had anyone take care of her like this, had never had anyone pay attention to her in this manner or treat her like she was something precious, worthy of treasuring, without expecting anything from her in return, and she found herself moving closer and closer, practically fitting herself to Sutan’s side before he finally finally finally put an arm around her, his hand resting on her hip.

***

Pearl hadn’t meant to get caught up on the dancefloor, but she had bumped into one of her more frequent fuckbuddies, the Calvin Klein manager a woman Pearl really enjoyed spending time with.

She had been swept along without a thought in her head, had enjoyed herself immensely as they danced until her partner had leaned forward and kissed her, their lips meeting, the girl dominating it right away.

Pearl had enjoyed it, she wasn’t made of stone, but as they kissed, she realized that it wasn’t what she wanted at all.

She didn’t want sex and kisses from someone who didn’t matter to her. 

She wanted Violet.

Pearl had pushed her away and told her she was on a date, Calvin Klein simply shrugging and catching the hand of another blonde to dance with, leaving her behind.

And then, Pearl had spent the next hour looking for Violet, had called her phone over and over again, but she was completely gone, practically evaporated into thin air.

Pearl was just about to call the police, when she spotted Violet, the other woman sitting at the bar, looking like she didn’t have a care in the world.

A man was with her, a stranger she couldn’t recognize since his back was turned to her. His arm was around Violet’s waist, the two of them caught up in a quiet conversation, Violet actually smiling, and Pearl couldn’t help but see red.

_ How dare she?  _

Pearl had taken Violet on a date, had invited her to this amazing party, and instead of waiting for her like she was supposed to do, Violet was now basking in someone else's attention.

Pearl didn’t know what to do, anger burning in her body, but instead of running over, instead of pulling Violet away, she turned around, and went right back to the dance floor.

She’d find Calvin Klein even if it was the last thing she did, and give her so many orgasms she would black out.

***

“Here you go.”

Violet couldn’t help but smile. Sutan had somehow managed to wrestle her wrap away from the check in girl, and while Violet knew his sister could change the mind of even the most stubborn person, she had gotten the distinct impression that Sutan had that exact skill as well.

“Thank you.”

Violet was just about to reach out, and take her coat, when Sutan held it up.

“Oh.”

“I hope you don’t mind?” Sutan smiled.

“No. No, not at all.” Violet turned around, slipping her arms into her coat. Sutan put it down over her shoulders, his hands resting on them for just a moment before he released her.

“Let’s go outside.”

***

“Careful.” Violet said, her voice muffled as she climbed into his car. “I’m wearing Gabbana.”

“I know,” Sutan chuckled, following right behind her. It had been the plan to get Violet a cab, to send her off on her own, but as they had stood outside, Violet wrapped up in her jacket, they hadn’t been able to find one, so Sutan had offered her a ride in his car.

He had arrived at the Vogue Fashion Fund with a date, but right now he couldn’t even remember her name, and if he was honest he had actually forgotten it the moment he saw Violet sit at the bar.

She was absolutely wonderful. Weird and unpredictable, keeping him on his toes in a way he hadn’t tried in years and years.

She didn’t seem impressed by who he was in the slightest, but she wasn’t disrespectful either, his profession, which was so often mocked, something she so clearly understood.

“Remember your seatbelt, young lady.”

“I’m not that young.” Violet looked at him, her brown eyes bright. “I’m 23.”

“And I’m 41.” 

It stung a little to say it. Sutan loved his age, loved that he was an adult with a career, that he was in charge of his own life, but right now it truly sucked that he was 17 years Violet’s senior.

“So?” Violet smiled. “You don’t look it.”

“Ouch.” Sutan snorted. “We both know I’m going gray.”

Raja had been ready to kill him when he had shown his twin his first gray hairs, his sister actually hitting him while she had yelled that it wasn’t fair. 

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Sutan laughed, surprise flushing over him. “You think I’m beautiful?” He hadn’t been called that since his late teens, the choice of word yet another thing that he hadn’t expected at all.

“Mmmh.” Violet nodded. “And I think-” Violet looked at him, a small smile playing on her lips. “I think, that it would be really nice if you kissed me.”

Sutan hadn’t planned to kiss the stranger he had met in the bar, hadn’t intended for his night to end this way, but as he leaned over the seat, his hand finding Violet’s hair, he didn’t want it any other way. 

***

“Bunny!” 

Courtney grinned. Adore was waiting outside their favorite pizza joint, and the second Courtney saw her best friend, her steps grew lighter and bouncier. As exhausted as she was after her first week at Galactica, nothing made her happier than a day with Adore, catching up over lunch and then snuggling up on her couch for a well-deserved marathon of their favorite cheesy rom coms. 

“Hi!” she cried, skipping up to her and flinging herself into her arms. 

They hadn’t seen each other since before her interview, and even though they texted all the time, it felt like it had been forever since Courtney had felt the warm comfort of one of Adore’s perfect hugs. Adore squeezed her back tightly. 

“I missed you so much,” Adore said, and Courtney nodded in agreement, face buried in her neck. 

“Me too, baby. How are you?” 

“Good! The line’s moving quickly, which is great because I am  _ starving! _ ” 

“Awesome.” Courtney laid a head on her shoulder, still not letting go. 

“So? How was it? Tell me everything!” 

Adore put her hands on Courtney’s shoulders, pushing her back to look into her face. 

“Um…”

“Isn’t Fame the  _ best? _ ” 

“Uh, yeah, she’s-”

“She’s practically my godmother,” Adore laughed. “You’re so lucky that you get to work for her and not my sister. Who, you know, I love and everything, but she is such a hardass. But Fame is like, the nicest.” 

“Right.” 

Courtney had met Adore’s infamous “hardass” sister a few times in passing, while they were in college. And while she was certainly intimidating, Courtney couldn’t remember her being nearly as relentlessly uptight as Fame. Who, Courtney supposed, must be very different outside of the office. 

“And she gives the best hugs in the world,” Adore sighed. 

“I’ll take your word for it,” Courtney replied with a chuckle. 

It seemed a bit unfair--knowing this warm and loving version of Fame existed, and that she’d probably never get to meet her. How could she miss someone she’d never met? 

“What, not a lot of hugging in the office?” Adore bumped Courtney playfully with her hip. 

“Unfortunately not.” 

Adore wrapped her arms around her. “Awww, sorry bunny.” 

“I’ll survive,” Courtney said. 

They stepped up to the counter to order, then found a small table, perching on stools. Adore, as usual, immediately took a huge bite, then moaned in pain. Courtney laughed, shaking her head. 

“You always do that.” 

“I know! But it’s just because I love pizza!” Adore whined, sucking on an ice cube from her Mountain Dew. 

Courtney giggled again, taking a sip of her root beer. 

“So...you haven’t really told me anything! What’s the job like? Is it super glamorous?!” 

“Um, it’s mostly like office stuff. Answering phones, scheduling meetings, errands, things like that.” Courtney picked at her pizza crust, taking a small bite. 

“Well, is it at least better than the steak house?” Adore asked. 

“Yeah, for sure. And most importantly, now I can stay in New York.” Courtney smiled. “Thanks for helping me get the interview.”

“Of course, bunny. I would go crazy if you left. No one else understands me the way you do.” She leaned forward and pressed a sloppy kiss to Courtney’s cheek. 

“Same!” Courtney grinned back at her. 

“So like...it’s good, then? You’re happy?” Adore’s blue eyes were wide with hope. 

It didn’t seem right for Courtney to complain to Adore. Not after she’d gone out of her way to help her get the interview. And certainly not about her “practically a godmother.” 

“Yeah! I mean, it’s been a little tough learning everything fast enough, but I think I’m doing alright.” Courtney picked at a mushroom that was falling off of her pizza and popped it into her mouth. 

“Of course you are! I would expect nothing else.” 

“I just really want to do a good job, you know?” 

“Yeah, sure.” Adore nodded, and then gave a sympathetic shrug. “I wouldn’t really know.”

“Well, we don’t all have rich sisters supporting our music careers,” she added.

“I know, what a shame!” Adore laughed. “Speaking of which, pizza and movie snacks are on Bianca today, so eat up.” 

“Well...thanks, Bianca,” Courtney said, toasting their invisible patron and then lifting the slice to her mouth for a bite. 

***

Pearl was smoking a cigarette, the morning sun shining down. Violet hadn’t answered any of her texts or any of her calls even after she had returned home, and Violet infuriatingly enough didn’t even have any social media profiles she could stalk, so Pearl had done the only thing she could think of. 

She had camped out on the roof, waiting and hoping that she’d bump into Violet doing her morning yoga.

Pearl was just about to give up, when the door finally opened and she saw Violet step through, the other woman stopping dead in her tracks, yoga mat under her arm.

“Viole- Hey!”

As soon as Pearl had opened her mouth, Violet had turned on her heel. 

“Hey!” Pearl shouted, throwing her cigarette over the rooftop edge.

“Violet! What the fuck, dude?!” Pearl flew down the stairs, but Violet was annoyingly fast; when she finally caught up to her, she had just jammed the key in her door.

“Violet! What the hell is wrong with you?” Pearl groaned, her heart hammering away. “First you ditch me and now you’re ignoring me?!”

Violet spun around, her hair almost hitting Pearl in the face. “Are you high right now?!”

“I-” Pearl straightened her back. “No, unfortunately. But if you’re interested, I do have some weed in my-”

Pearl had hoped for a smile, a laugh, anything, but instead, Violet simply slammed the door in her face.

***

Patrick opened the door, curious as to who it could possibly be ringing their doorbell unannounced on a Sunday evening. He couldn’t imagine the wealthy divorcée who lived in the brownstone next door needing to borrow a cup of sugar. Instead, he was greeted with a very familiar face.

“Pearl?” Patrick opened the door wider upon seeing the young blonde. She looked a little rough, like she’d been hard drinking all day.

“I’m sorry! I-should have called first. I don’t know why I thought-I mean I didn’t think-”

Patrick’s heart softened, seeing the clear distress that his wife’s latest paramour was in. Patrick knew Pearl, and enjoyed her company quite a bit. She was Fame's favorite and most reliable work playmate, always happy to please her, but didn’t often come to their house. 

“Is everything okay, dear?” he asked gently.

“No.” Pearl shook her head. 

“Ah.” Patrick slipped an arm around her shoulder, pressing a fatherly kiss to her hair, and guided her inside. He called out to Fame in the kitchen, “Darling! Set another place for dinner!” 


	13. Vitan's First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: After Violet was crushed by Pearl’s betrayal, she found solace in a kind and handsome stranger, who just so happens to be Raja’s twin brother. 
> 
> This Chapter: An engagement lunch, a little flirting, and a first date. 
> 
> NOTE: When Raja and Sutan speak Indonesian to each other, it is indicated by brackets around the dialogue, [like so.]

Raja couldn’t help but feel a bit sentimental as she looked around the table at her dearest friends, who’d gathered for lunch to celebrate her engagement. She knew that Raven was planning an elaborate engagement party, but Raja was happy that they could have this more intimate gathering for her closest friends. 

Sutan was sitting at her side, of course, he was after all her twin brother, best friend and lifelong partner in crime. Then, there was her darling Fame, one of her biggest sources of frustration as well as the other half responsible for some of her proudest achievements. Patrick was by her side, Fame putting the tomatoes from her plate of his, Patrick chuckling at his wife's antics. Bianca sat next to him, joking and cutting up, lending her particular brand of snarky support. There was Detox, the little tabloid-owning shitbag who she couldn’t help but love with all of her heart. Right now, Detox had a disgusting neon yellow bowl cut, but he had apparently lost a bet, and Raja wasn’t one to ask for details. His wife, and Raven’s bestie, Jujubee, sat next to him, charming and good-humored as ever. Juju was small and plump, her brown hair always perfectly styled. 

And then of course, there was her Raven. Raja had a hard time not looking at her ravishingly beautiful fiancée. Raven was glowing--despite the fact that she was shredding the last few pounds to get to her “on season” weight, (a tradition that always made Raja is a little sad, since she loved Raven’s curves and couldn’t help but mourn a bit every time her abs became visible again). 

Raja twirled her glass by the stem, looking over at Raven lovingly, catching her eye and giving her a secret smile. Raven smiled back, lashes fluttering, and for that one brief second, the rest of the table, the rest of the world, ceased to matter. 

When she forced her attention back to the group’s conversation, she heard the tail end of Fame, informing her brother of their new Fashion Week plans. 

“...because it’s an entirely different line, so we need entirely different models,” Fame said, her hand on Sutan’s arm. “Except Raven, of course.” Fame smiled brightly, looking for all intents and purposes like she had just given Sutan an amazing deal.

“Of course!” Raven agreed, a light chuckle leaving her lips. 

“You’re killing me,” Sutan complained with a groan, and Raja couldn’t hide a smile.

Galactica always used Elite. At the beginning it was because it was still Raja’s agency and she was able to negotiate contracts they could actually afford, but now, it was because Elite was the best in the business, the modeling agency with the most talented, desirable models and it certainly didn’t help that her twin was the most influential booker in town.

“If you think you can get out of the cancellation fees on Exclusives Fame, I’m not budging.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Be grateful I’m not charging you by the minute right no-”

[Sutan, no more business!] Raja exclaimed in indonesian, causing Bianca to groan. She never liked it when she and Sutan spoke in their native language together, mostly because she couldn’t handle not being in on every single joke. Sutan looked at her, his brow raised, and Raja could see in her brother’s face that he wanted to continue arguing, but when he and Fame got into it, it could go on for hours, and Raja was really not in the mood. “We can talk business later.”

“Fine, fine, I’m budging.” Sutan smiled, “but be prepared to hear pitches on why the girls you already selected are perfect and versatile and most importantly already book-”

“Ah ba ba-” Raja held up a finger, and Sutan laughed. “This is a celebration for my soon to be bride-”

“Well, for both of us,” Raven said generously. Her and Juju were practically glued to each other, Raven looking at something on Juju’s phone, and if Raja had to make an educated guess, it was probably yet another set of photos of Juju and Detox’s kids. “Right?”

“I think Raja was right the first time, honey,” Juju added, the ever present mischievous smile on her face. 

“Everyone-” Detox looked around. “This is a celebration. Let’s eat.”

“You mean let’s drink?” asked Bianca.

“What’s the difference?” Raja said with a shrug, lifting her glass.

“To Raja and Raven,” Sutan declared, raising his glass.

“Cheers!” Fame enthused. 

“I’d like to say something,” Juju announced. “You know, before our precious Raven showed up, I was the baby of this group, and so it was wonderful to have a fellow—” 

“Fame’s only a few months older than you,” Bianca pointed out. “And you’re still like 10 years older than Rave.”

“—As someone far, far, far younger than the rest of you,” she continued, making everyone laugh, “It was so wonderful to have a youthful peer join our group.”

Detox chuckled beside her, enjoying his wife’s antics as usual. 

“Ravey baby, I love you, and I always will, and I’m so thrilled that you’re making this one give you a real commitment.” She gestured to Raja. “The both of you deserve the world, and I have no doubt that you’ll achieve even more greatness together than you have on your own.” 

“Vomit,” Bianca said, and Juju stuck her tongue out at her. 

“Thank you, Juju, we love you too!” Raven hugged her best friend tightly. 

Raja glanced over at her brother, who seemed a bit off. Distracted, maybe. She nudged him with her shoulder. 

[You alright?]

[What? Oh yeah, fine,] Sutan replied.

[You’re not stressed about the Fashion Week casting, are you? Because I assure you-]

[No, no, of course not! Sorry. I’m so happy for you, sis.] 

“Hey!” Bianca barked, knocking on the table. “No twin talk!” 

[Shut up, troll!] Raja exclaimed, and Bianca threw back her head in a laugh.

“Well that one, I understood. Cheers!” 

“So...are you gonna be declared woman and...woman?” Detox asked pensively, earning him a cuff on the ear from Jujubee. “It’s a reasonable question!” 

“You’re an idiot,” she proclaimed, before leaning over and kissing his cheek.

“We haven’t gotten that far, De, but I assume we’ll be declared, like...married?” Raja said. 

“Or wives,” Raven added with a satisfied smile. 

***

Violet always felt out of place when she came to pick Fame up. Her boss preferred to dine at some of Manhattan's finest restaurants, and even though Violet knew she wasn’t sticking out in her Carolina Herrera dress, she felt very self conscious about the no name handbag she was carrying. It was one she had gotten from a regular thrift store while in college, which was all she had been able to afford, the black bag the only thing she had that was big enough for a day like today.

Violet had texted Fame a car emoji upon arrival, the quick message one of the only ways Fame allowed her to contact her when she was out with friends. 

Her, Raja and Fame were going directly to one of their main fabric supplier’s showrooms, and she already knew it was going to be a past 9 pm kind of day at work.

Violet was just settling in to wait, the hostess thankfully not giving her too much trouble, when she saw none other than Sutan Amrull turn the corner. 

Stupid stupid stupid. Violet should of course had expected him to be there, the sight of him causing a surge of warmth to rush through her body.

If she had been at work, Violet would have freaked out, but if she was lucky, Sutan had no idea that she was an assistant, nothing except her stupid bag giving her away.

“Oh.” Sutan smiled. He was wearing a burgundy suit, a loudly vibrating phone in his hand. “Hello Violet.”

“Hi-” Violet looked at the phone. “Don’t you want to-?”

“Wha-?” Sutan looked down, an actual genuinely surprised expression on his face for a moment, like he had forgotten that his phone was ringing. “It’s fine, they can call me back-”

“No. You should take it.”

Sutan gave Violet a strange look. “Okay?”

He smiled as he pressed receive, putting the phone against his ear to take the call.

Violet tuned out, not listening to Sutan since it wasn’t any of her business. She couldn’t help fiddling with her skirt, anxiety slowly creeping up on her as she realized what they were doing.

Kissing Sutan had been lovely, amazing, even, but Violet had held no belief that they’d see each other again, that he’d pay any attention to her if they ever were to bump into each other, yet, here they were.

“Yes, just leave it on my desk please.” 

Violet came back to earth at the sound of Sutan ending the call, the man putting his phone in his pocket. She had almost expected him to leave, but instead, he turned his attention to her.

“So, Violet, it’s good to see you again.” Sutan leaned against the wall, and Violet smiled a little. He was still towering over her, even though she was in heels, the Amrull twin truly stupidly tall.

“It’s good to see you in daylight-” Violet stopped herself, dread rushing over her. 

Violet had only meant that it was nice to know that Sutan still wanted to say hello to her during the day, but it had come out all wrong, so horribly horribly wrong, but instead of being offended, Sutan just laughed.

“Am I to assume that you no longer find me, what was the word you used? Beautiful?”

Violet felt herself flush. She hadn’t planned to end the night kissing in Sutan’s car, actually she hadn’t planned on him at all, but she had meant every word that had left her tipsy lips.

"I-" Violet wanted to say something, anything, but Sutan simply smiled. “I do-”

"I'm only joking.” Sutan pushed away from the wall. “I know you work in fashion, but I assume you’re not a model?”

The words didn’t sound insulting, but Violet wasn’t sure if she should be offended at the dismissal. “You think I couldn’t be a model?”

“You’re not one of them.” Sutan smiled. “I would know if you were-”

Ah. Right. Top management in New York.

“-besides, where would the fun be in that?”

“The fun?” Violet didn’t understand the smile, Sutan looking almost delighted.

“The fun, because I don’t date models. Ever.”

Violet swallowed. She had no idea why, but Sutan said it with absolute seriousness, like it was simply a fact of life.

“You, however? I’d love to date you.” 

“I-”

Violet couldn’t believe what she had just heard. She had never experienced someone being so open about their emotions, so clear about their intentions, and it was equal parts overwhelming and incredibly sexy.

“I-”

"Violet!"

Fame’s voice rang through the restaurant, the pitch of her voice piercing Violet’s ears.

“You better go before Fame realizes the world doesn't revolve around her." Sutan chuckled. It didn’t seem like he had figured out Violet was an assistant, the tone of his voice not changing at all even though Fame had just yelled at her. "Can I hope for a chance to see you soon?”

“Yes, I-”

“VIOLET!”

“Goodbye Sutan.”I'm hoping for a see you soon?”

***

_ Text: Hello lovely eyes _

_ Text: Who’s this? _

_ Text: Don’t tell me you forgot about me so soon? I’m wounded and appalled. _ _  
_ _ Text: Do you have a lot of people call you lovely eyes? _

_ Text: I’m joking _ _  
_ _ Text: I guess this is text _ _  
_ _ Text: I remember you _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Text: I’m glad I made a lasting impression. _

_ Text: You did _ _  
_ _ Text: Here is my personal phone number. _

***

“Fame absolutely loathes hydrangeas-” Violet picked the flowers in question out of a giant bouquet that had just been delivered. “Never put them on her desk.”

They were standing in Fame’s office, freshening the vases of flowers, Violet informing Courtney of her preferences while Courtney scribbled furious notes on her pad. 

_ “Hello?” _

Courtney looked up at the sound of the man’s voice, wondering who it might be, then looked at Violet for direction. 

“Well?” Violet prompted. “Don’t just stand there like an idiot, go see who it is.”

Courtney bit her lip. She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to the way people spoke to her in this job, and if she was quite honest, she didn’t know if she ever wanted to. With a barely detectable eye roll, she turned and walked out of Fame’s office. 

“Hello? Can I help you?” she asked.

“I don’t know, can you?” the man asked cheerfully. “I’m looking for my wife.” 

“Oh! Mr. Bertschy!” Courtney said, realizing that this must be Fame’s husband. They were scheduled to have lunch together today, but he was a bit early. “How do you do, sir?”

“Please, call me Patrick. You must be Courtney.” Patrick held out his hand. 

“Oh… Are you sure? Violet said-”

“Violet is very formal. I’ve given up on her,” Patrick said, leaning in to give Courtney a conspiratorial wink. “But Mr. Bertschy makes me feel like my father. Actually...more like my grandfather.”

“Well, we don’t want that, do we?” Courtney giggled. 

“It would be nice to avoid it,” Patrick chuckled. 

“Um, Miss Fame is in the conference room. Do you want me to go see if-”

“No, that’s alright. I’ll just wander by and give her a little wave.” 

“Okay. Please let me know if you need anything,” Courtney said with a smile. 

“Thank you. Bye, Courtney.” 

“Bye, Patrick!” Courtney replied cheerfully, waving as he walked out of the office. 

“ _ Courtney! _ ” Violet’s voice, from the doorway of Fame’s office, was sharp and annoyed, her arms full of flowers. 

Courtney whirled around. 

“Why are you flirting with Fame’s husband?”

“I’m not  _ flirting _ ,” Courtney replied, horrified. 

“You called him Patrick.”

“He told me to!” 

“Courtney…” Violet rolled her eyes to the sky, shaking her head. “You need to have more respect for people who outrank you.” 

“Don’t you think it’s more respectful to call people what they ask?” Courtney said. 

“That doesn’t- urgh!” Violet gave up, marching into the kitchenette to throw away the flowers. 

Feeling a bit like there was no winning, Courtney sat down at her desk with a sigh, checking her email. More than 20 had come in since she’d been in Fame’s office with Violet. Sometimes it felt like she’d never keep up. She didn’t notice Miss Fame strolling back in, on Patrick’s arm, until the woman cleared her throat. 

“Oh! Miss, I’m sorry!” Courtney jumped up to hand her her purse and wrap. 

“Tell Violet that the meeting is over, and be sure to follow up with Jaida to get the revised budgets later today.” 

“Will do, Miss. Have a nice lunch.” 

As Patrick escorted Fame towards the elevators, he asked, “So...that’s the new one, eh?” 

“Yes.” 

“She’s cute,” he said benignly, then followed up with, “But then, you’ve always had good taste. Think she’ll last?” 

Fame rolled her eyes. 

“We’ll see.” 

***

“Sutan that’s _ it! _ ”

Sutan didn’t even notice his phone getting pulled out of his hands, Fame standing behind him.

“Hey-”

“This is family night.” Fame put his phone on the table, turning the lights down once again, all of them gathered in the living room in Patrick and Fame’s town house,  _ Dirty Dancing _ on the TV by Bianca’s choice. “No more texting.” 

Fame resettled into her spot on the sofa, snuggled under Bianca’s arm. 

“But-” Sutan reached for his phone, that was just the latest victim of Fame’s no phones rule, everyone's phones in one big stack on the table.

“No.”

Sutan groaned and laid back on the couch, Raja’s laugh not making his mood any better as he knew Violet was waiting for his reply. The movie started rolling, and he made a decision.

He was following up on his word about a date, sooner rather than later.

***

Courtney sighed. It had been a long couple of weeks—the struggle to learn all of the computer programs and rules and company protocols and mountain of info Violet threw at her with the constant crushing fear of making a mistake; obsessing in front of the mirror for way too long every morning to make sure she wasn’t committing an egregious fashion faux pas; having mild anxiety attacks every time she encountered someone and didn’t remember their name. But finally, things were starting to click. She was starting to feel like she’d at least gotten the hang of the basic parts of the job.

But today, Ivy was sick, which meant that Violet was sent with Raja to meet with their textile suppliers. She’d left the office just after 10 with the express orders for Courtney to “never, under any circumstances, leave the offices or the phones unattended.” Courtney had remained glued to her seat after that, worrying what would happen if she had to pee, until Fame dismissively sent her down to makeup to get the final plans for the upcoming IMATS. And there was no way in hell that Courtney would disobey a direct order from Fame.

Courtney opened the door to the makeup department, tapping on the wall to announce her arrival.

“Hello?”

“Hiieeeeeee!”

Courtney smiled when she heard Alaska’s characteristic greeting. Even though she’d only seen the makeup executive a few times, Alaska was probably her favorite person in the company: her infectious laugh, her warm personality, and amazing sense of style. Alaska often showed up to work wearing prints and accessories Courtney couldn’t imagine anyone else wearing, but pulling it off anyway, looking like a supermodel as she walked down the hallways of Galactica.

Courtney waved quickly to all of the employees in the makeup department as she made her way to Alaska’s door. She looked on with envy at everyone working; honestly, she wanted to do this a million times more than getting coffee for Fame at exactly 200 degrees. That, of course, until she could fulfill her real dream of a career in music—but that felt like a tremendously long way off right now.

“Hey, Alaska.”

Alaska stood up from her desk, a bright smile on her face. Her office was exactly what Courtney expected, and it was glorious. It had a sofa covered in velvety, hot pink leopard print, with furry turquoise pillows and matching hot pink accents everywhere. It was fun and adorable and unconventionally chic, just like Alaska herself. Courtney loved it. 

“Hey Court! Look at you, as stunning as always. What can I help you with, honey?”

Courtney perked up at Alaska’s words. It felt like one of the first times anyone in the company had shown such a positive attitude towards her, and certainly the first time anyone had given her a nickname.

“I’m here to pick up the IMATS plans…”

“Really?” Alaska smiled and stood up, finding them for her. “Next time, just call down here and I’ll have one of my girls bring it up. Do you want a cup of tea or are you busy?” 

Alaska gestured towards the little kettle she had in her office, and Courtney looked at it longingly. Of course she’d love a cup of tea with Alaska—or better yet, a job. She allowed herself a brief fantasy of having Alaska as her boss instead of Fame before offering an apologetic smile and a shrug of her shoulders.

“I wish I could, but-” 

“I get it, duty calls.” Alaska gave her another warm smile, handing over the stack of IMATS folders. “But don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“I won’t!” Courtney said, and in that moment Courtney made a decision. Her and Alaska would be friends, even if it was one of the last things she did at the company.

***

Violet was standing outside of Galli, a wine tasting bar in SoHo. She had arrived 5 minutes early, using all her self-restraint not to show up 15 minutes early like she actually wanted to; having buried herself in cleaning up all the small loose ends she had left behind after having Courtney in her office for almost two weeks, like changing the ink in the printer, restocking the fridge and buying new office supplies.

The clock was ticking, and Violet was growing more and more worried that Sutan wouldn’t show up.

Violet found her phone, her nail tapping against the screen as she checked her messages, her other hand tugging anxiously on the edge of her dress.

“Hello lovely eyes.”

Violet turned around, smiling as she saw Sutan walking towards her in a green suit. He looked great, the suit perfectly fitted and his hair fixed in a way that was just stylish enough that it still looked effortless.

“Hey…”

“Have you waited long?” Sutan checked his watch, smiling teasingly as he was right on time.

Violet shook her head, gently biting her lip. “No.” They briefly hugged and Sutan grabbed Violet’s hand giving her a twirl, which made her laugh in surprise.

“You look perfect.”

Violet smiled and blushed. Sutan was so sweet and attentive, something she normally hated in a man, their compliments often just feeling like a cheap way to try to get her into bed. 

With Sutan however, it was different, maybe because she knew that he saw the small things. 

He saw her as something more, a gallery hall in which pieces of art were put on display whenever she dressed herself. He saw how much time she spent on curating herself to perfection instead of just a piece of meat they only wanted to fuck.

***

“Here.” Sutan smiled, giving Violet a glass of wine. “It’s a Cabernet Sauvignon.”

“Thank you.” Violet smiled shyly, careful not to ruin her lipstick as she took a sip. The wine was bold, tasting slightly of cherries and even a little of pepper. Sutan held up the bucket for Violet, letting her spit before he sat it down again.

“Do you like it?”

“Mmh…” Violet put down her glass, making eye contact with Sutan. “But I’m not usually in a position where I get to choose between spitting or swallowing on a first date.”

Violet blushed all the way to her ears when she realized what she had said, but Sutan only leaned back and laughed.

The rest of the night went by with the two of them sitting at their table, drinking wine and nibbling on cheese and fruits from the small platters of food that Sutan ordered. 

Sutan told Violet about his childhood in Indonesia and how he and Raja grew up in and outside of Jakarta, until their dad’s business took all of them overseas to America when they were eight.

“So do you speak Indonesian?”

[I do.]

“Wow.” Violet laughed and clapped, slightly drunk from all the wine. “Can you teach me?”

Sutan smiled, his hand finding Violet’s knee as he tried to teach her a few simple phrases of Indonesian, like hello and goodbye. Violet was trying her best to learn, but the Indonesian vowels were very far from anything within the English language.

“Apa… Apa, kabeer?”

“Apa kabar Violet, you almost have it.” Sultan smiled. They had moved on the sweet dessert wines as their date was nearing the end.

“This is so much harder than French.”

“You speak French?”

“Yes, or, oui.” Violet nodded. “Je appris au collège.”

“Ah, a true scholar then.” Sutan smiled.

“You understand french?”

“I understand enough to negotiate a modeling contract, tell a designer to fuck off and order myself a coffee.” Sutan filled Violet’s glass with the bottle they had at their table, despite her laughing protests. “Tu es trés trés bien.”

Violet smiled and grabbed Sutan’s glass, letting him fill it again as well, the fact that it was a Thursday completely forgotten.

“If anyone here is “bien”, it’s you.” Violet laughed a little, sipping from her glass, still careful of her lipstick. 

“So why French?”

“I want to work for Dior.”

“That’s very dedicated for someone on the American staff.” Sutan raised an eyebrow. Last time he checked that wasn’t a requirement, but hey, who was he to dislike ambition. 

“No, not America. I want to work for Dior, in, I, I want to work at the Haute Couture atelier in Paris.”

Sutan whisteled, his eyes wide with impression.

“I want to make living art.”

“And you’re in New York and not Paris because?”

“You don’t just waltz your way into the atelie, you have to wait for an internship position-” Violet sighed. “It’s, it rarely ever happens and no one knows when but-“

“Does my sister know of that aspiration?”

“I haven’t exactly told-” Violet blushed. It made her feel intimately proud that Sutan assumed she was a designer, that he so clearly thought she worked under his sister. However, there was the small problem that Violet hadn’t told anyone at all at Galactica about her aspirations. 

“Good. Don’t” Sutan smiled. “Raja is many things, but she’s not exactly good at letting go.”

Violet bit her lip. It felt sour that Sutan so clearly believed she worked in design, but she would soon anyway, so there was no harm done. “Right.”

“You should show me your work at some point, lovely eyes. I’d love to see it.”

“Why do you call me that?”

“Lovely eyes?”

Violet nodded. 

“It’s fitting, is it not? Why should I lie about the beauty before me? That is a fool’s trait, and I am no fool.”

***

Sutan had never been more grateful for the fact that he had a private driver and the slow speed of traffic in New York.

Violet was in his lap, her sweet mouth against his, the faintest taste of honey on her tongue. She was beautiful in a way he hadn’t seen in years, graceful and poised and so tightly wound, a mystery and an open book at the same time.

“Fuck…” Sutan broke their kiss, a smile on his face, his hands almost bruising Violet’s hips with their grasp.

“You have lipstick on your face.” Violet’s thumb gently caressed his bottom lip, her voice almost a whisper as she traced the pattern her blood red lips had left behind.

Sutan caught Violet’s finger in his mouth, giving it a gentle bite which made her gasp. He could feel how wet she was, how hot she was against his thigh, her dress showing off her alabaster skin, and he couldn’t stop himself anymore. 

He leaned in, going for the throat first, pulling the sweetest sounds from Violet’s mouth as he nipped at her skin. Her arms wrapped themselves around him as he made his way over her collarbone, down her throat, and then, then he was kissing the top of her breast, the flesh tender and soft against his lips, and he wanted more like he had never wanted anything else in his life.

A gentle tug; he just wanted to see, just a little, but what met his eyes was not the lace or satin of a bra, but instead the dusty pink of a hard nipple. Violet was naked, right in front of him.

“Wow.”

“Oh God.” He hadn’t even noticed how Violet’s face had gone completely red, embarrassment obscuring her beautiful features as she quickly tried to cover herself up with her free hand. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t, I didn’t think, you can’t wear a bra with this dress, oh god-” Violet panicked.

“Hey. Hey.” Sutan tightened his hold on Violet’s hip. “I’m sorry.”

Violet pushed. “Sorry?”

“I should have asked.” Violet looked like she was about to protest, but Sutan leaned forward, his lips placing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. She removed it, and he pulled her dress back in place, covering up her breast.

Sutan straightened his back, preparing to help Violet off of his lap, when he felt a hand in his hair, Violet crashing their lips together, the woman practically devouring him in a burst of pure desire. 

Letting Violet go once they reached her apartment building was close to painful, but she gave him a peck as she crawled out of the car, the sweetest smile on her lips, and Sutan knew that if Violet wanted to wait, he could wait.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Violet agreed to a date with Sutan, and to her delight, he was just as charming as the night they’d met. 
> 
> This Chapter: Chocolate cake is the only acceptable apology.

Courtney entered the conference room with an armful of drinks, helping Violet set up for the design meeting. She was stopped in her tracks when she realized that Violet was humming, very softly, under her breath, so surprised that she almost dropped the bottles, a gasp coming from her.

Violet looked up at the sound, her eyes sharp. 

“What?” 

“Uh...nothing. Is this enough Red Bull?” Courtney asked. 

“Not even close. Alyssa insists that she needs--” Violet sighed before saying the words, “--go-go juice. You’ll want to get at least 3 more cans.”

“Okay!” Courtney scampered back to the kitchenette to grab the additional drinks, and when she returned, she saw that Violet’s usual neutral expression was a tiny, secret smile. Courtney put a hand on her hips, a grin spreading across her face.

“ _ What? _ ” Violet asked, looking up at her with an exasperated sigh. 

Courtney leaned on the table, guessing, “You’re seeing someone.”

“What?” Violet blushed all the way to her ears. “That’s not any of your business-”

“Oh my god you  _ are _ seeing someone!”

Violet had spent the last two days either texting Sutan or working. The man was endlessly fascinating, his reply to her texts keeping Violet glued to her personal phone in a way she had never tried before.

They had eaten lunch together yesterday, Violet hiding everything that could identify her as an assistant at the bottom of her handbag. 

Conversation had flown freely, Sutan full of stories and Violet liked listening to him talk. He had given her a sweet goodbye kiss on the street that made her weak in the knees before his driver had taken her back to Galactica. 

Dating Sutan felt perfect, except for the lingering hurt that overshadowed everything each time she saw Pearl.

“Courtney, we’re at work-” Violet almost looked panicked as she desperately gestured towards the wall that was shared with Fame’s office. 

“Come on we both know that thing’s soundproof. Tell. Me. Everything! Who is it, do I know them?!”

“Please-”

“Is it someone I know? Oh my god...it’s Pearl. It’s Pearl, isn’t it?” 

Courney recalled the way Pearl had been so obviously flirting, a strangely funny feeling in her stomach remembering how excited she’d felt while watching them. 

“I’ve started seeing someone, but-”

“You have?! Omigod, that’s amazing! Have you had sex?”

Violet groaned, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. “I’d never have sex with someone on the first date, that isn’t-” 

“Is Pearl a good kisser?”

“Stop!” Violet didn’t even realize how loudly she had said the word until she had already done it. She slapped her hand over her mouth, looking completely mortified. 

The both stood in complete silence for a moment before Violet turned to Courtney, hissing through gritted teeth.

“Don’t pretend like you know me, Courtney. I’m your superior. I don’t, my personal life isn’t any of your business and I- Just. Don’t. Okay? Just don’t.”

Courtney bit her lip, guilt washing over her. In her enthusiasm for some juicy gossip, she’d obviously hit a nerve. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.” She lined up a few cans of Dr. Pepper for Alaska before admitting, “My friends say that I’m an oversharer.” 

“You don’t say,” Violet replied flatly, but there wasn’t any venom in her voice.

“Sometimes I forget that other people are more private. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” Violet nodded, “Now give me some of that go-go juice.”

***

Violet was late. Not fashionably late, but actually late late. 

Sutan had invited her over to his apartment for dinner, and while Violet had been a bit apprehensive at first, she couldn’t wait to see where Sutan lived. There was so much about him that was a mystery, and while Violet knew curiosity killed the cat, she needed to know.

She had cancelled dinner by text, and given Sutan a new ETA, but she had overshot that deadline by 20 minutes as well. Fame had held her back at work, her boss demanding that she stayed for the extra meeting with design, Trixie and Fame running through the pieces that had been sent up from tailoring. 

She was really and truly royally fucked.

Violet groaned as she hoisted her totebag back up her shoulder, her handbag digging into her elbow, a white box balancing on her hand. She hadn’t meant to bring half of the office with her, but Fame had asked her last minute to take some fabric samples home to Trixie, and Violet would rather die than admit that she wasn’t going home, so here she was.

Sutan had texted her his apartment number, but Violet still paused for a moment. She so desperately wanted to check her makeup, to make sure that everything about her was perfectly presentable, but she had already made Sutan wait way too long, and she wasn’t sure if she could even get herself untangled without dropping everything. 

Violet took a deep breath and knocked on the door. 

At first, no one answered, Violet nearly panicking that she was on the wrong floor, but then, the door opened.

“Hello Violet.” Sutan was wearing a black fitted t-shirt and dark jeans, and Violet realised this was the first time she had seen him without a suit on. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “You’re late.”

“I know.” Violet cringed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” If the earth opened and swallowed her up, it’d be less painful. “I got so caught up at work and I-”

Violet could feel her throat close up, panic scratching in her chest, but then, Sutan did something totally unexpected. He leaned forward, catching her lips in a kiss, and for a second, the entire world disappeared. 

Sutan broke away, taking a step back as he pulled her into his apartment, and closed the door behind her.

“Sutan I-”

“We’re okay.” Sutan interrupted, and Violet felt a rush of relief go through her. “I mean, of course I don’t love you being almost 2 hours late-”

“I wasn’t 2 hours late-” Violet was 1 hour and 28 minutes late, which was an entirely different story.

“But we’re both professionals in a demanding industry. It’s August, Fashion Week claims it’s victims, I get it.”

“Thank you.” Violet blushed. “I promise I’m a lot better at work.” 

“You work at Galactica,” Sutan smirked, “I’d expect nothing less.” He reached out, and Violet realized he was offering to help her with her bags. She shuffled her handbag down her arm, her tote following right behind, and Sutan took both. It wasn’t until he peeked into the tote bag, that Violet realized she had made a mistake.

“Are these fabric samples?”

“Umh-” Violet didn’t know what to say, her tongue tripping over itself. She didn’t want to lie, but if Sutan assumed? Was that all that bad? “It’s, umh, it’s for-”

“I know, I know.” Sutan smiled, closing the bag again. “Company secret, no one can know, collection isn’t out yet. I can’t help it, I’m a noisy bastard” He put the tote on a table, Violet’s handbag earning a place right next to it. “What’s in the box?”

“Oh.” Violet had completely forgotten the white box. “It’s cake, I brought dessert-” Violet held it out. “Since I didn’t make it in time for dinner.” She had ordered the cake right after she had sent off the text, a delivery boy dropping it off at the office while Fame was ranting away. “It’s chocolate.” 

Chocolate was one of the few treats that could tempt Raja, so Violet hoped that the same would be true for her twin.

“An apology cake…”

“Know what? We’re more than okay.” Sutan smiled, taking the box while Violet took her jacket off. “Keep apologizing like this, and you can be late whenever you want.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Sutan’s apartment reminded Violet so much of Raja’s office--strangely so. There was the same heavy oak furniture, the same rich colors and thick rugs. Violet didn’t know a lot about interior design, but it wasn’t at all what she was expecting from the man who dressed with such clean, simple lines. 

“Sit down-” Sutan pointed towards a purple velvet couch as he placed the cake on the coffee table. “I’ll get us forks.”

***

Violet couldn’t pinpoint exactly how her and Sutan had ended up kissing, the piece of cake they had shared barely touched. Sutan’s hand was in her hair, his fingers ruining the carefully styled curls, but it didn’t matter as she got to rock against him, her core burning hot as she sat on his lap, her arms around his neck.

“Let’s get this off you.”

Violet nodded, and Sutan pulled back. If she was honest, she had picked her silk shirt for that reason, the tiny buttons just waiting to be popped open, but as she leaned back to make space, when she expected Sutan to go straight for her shirt and what she knew every man was after, he leaned forward, grabbing her shoe just as Violet moved her arms, and it was too late before she realized her mistake, the two of them fumbling to the floor with a thump.

“Fuck!” 

“Violet! Are you okay?!” Sutan had grabbed her head immediately, his big hands holding her, his weight on top of her. 

Oh god she was such an embarrassment, not even able to sit on a couch right.

“I’m fine- I’m- I’m fine…” Violet cracked an eye open, terrified of what she’d see on Sutan’s face. 

“Thank god.” Violet didn’t understand, but as she opened her eyes fully, she saw Sutan smiling down at her, his entire face lit up, as if what had just happened didn’t mean anything. “I guess you could say-” His smile grew even wider. “That I just fell for you.”

He burst into laughter, and Violet felt herself laugh with him, his joke so utterly stupid and yet so absolutely perfect, all of the tension disappearing completely from the situation. 

She knew she had to look a mess, her shoes still on her feet, her face without a doubt red, her makeup smeared, but somehow, somehow, with that laugh, that wonderful laugh, it didn’t really matter. 

It felt like weight had just been lifted from her shoulders, as if she had been freed from a burden she didn’t even know that she was carrying. Violet felt joy in her chest, still laughing, everything bubbling out of her as she quickly pushed her shoes off with toes, hooking her ankles behind Sutan’s back, bringing him even closer to her.

***

Sitting back on his knees, Sutan got to take a look at Violet, the woman lying on his bed. He had carried her in from the living room, and Sutan was so very happy he had asked his housekeeper to be extra thorough with her cleaning, the sheets fresh and crisp.

Violet was a work of art. He had opened her shirt, a black lace bra teasing him with the promise of the delicious tits he had barely had time to see in the car. She had stepped out of her skirt and shoes herself, and Sutan had bitten back a groan when he saw her stockings, Violet of course the type of woman who wore a garter belt just because. 

“Please-” Violet reached out, her fingers grabbing the bottom of his t-shirt, tugging up on the fabric. “Please?”

“Of course.” Sutan pulled his shirt over his head, and while most other men in their 40’s would probably worry about disappointing, Sutan knew he looked good, the gym regime his personal trainer refused to budge on keeping him in shape. 

“Mmh...” Violet smiled, one of her fingers gliding over his stomach. “I like your tattoos.”

Sutan chuckled. He had gotten most of them in his teens and twenties, Raja’s skin a mirror of his own. They were slowly fading, black lines turning grey on tanned skin, but they were a part of him. 

“Less flattery-” Sutan climbed back on top of Violet, leaning on his arm on the side of her head. “More kissing.”

Violet giggled and soon they were grinding together, their bodies pushing against each other. He could feel how she was aching, her pussy burning hot against his hip, and her panties had to be soaked through.

“What do you want?” Sutan kissed the corner of her mouth, peppering kisses on her. 

“Touch me.”

“I am touching you.”

Violet groaned, the frustrated sound causing Sutan to laugh. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

Violet dug her nails into Sutan’s forearm, “Please.” 

“My pleasure.” Sutan pulled back once again, fumbling with his belt buckle, when he saw that Violet was trying to wiggle out of her panties.

“Fuck…” Sutan stopped what he was doing, watching Violet before he grabbed her wrists and pulled her away. “Let me.”

He leaned down, slowly kissing his way down Violet’s chest and onto her stomach until he could take the fabric of her panties between his teeth, pulling them down, the scent of her filling his nose as he kissed his way up her thigh.

Violet became completely still underneath him, almost frozen in place, not a sound coming from her. 

This wasn’t normally the reaction he received when he was about to eat a girl out, so Sutan stopped. When he looked up, Violet’s eyes were clenched shut, her teeth buried in her lip, the signs of pleasure from seconds ago no longer clear in her expression.

“Are you okay?” Sutan gently ran his hand over Violet’s stomach, now feeling with his hand just how tightly wound her muscles were.

“Yes-” Violet groaned, but the sound was so different. “I’m fine, keep going.”

“You don’t seem fine…” Sutan sat up on his elbow.

“Just get it done!” Violet snapped, which made Sutan pull away completely.

“Hey, hey...” He quickly crawled up the bed, laying next to Violet on his side, his head propped up on his arm, his other hand still on Violet’s stomach, the muscles there already a lot less tense. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to with me…”

Violet looked up at Sutan, the shame clearly visible in her face. “I’m sorry. I just don’t… that.” Violet vaguely gestured, “I don’t like it very much.”

Ah. It wasn’t often that Sutan met them, but there were girls who didn’t like being eaten out, and it seemed like Violet was one of them.

“Don’t ever apologize for that.” Sutan leaned down, gently kissing her until he could feel her relax. 

“But I ruined the mood.” Violet bit her lip, and the gesture made Sutan’s cock jump slightly. He took her hand, putting it on top of his jeans, and he could see the blush return to her cheeks.

“You haven’t ruined anything, lovely eyes.”

Violet nodded, accepting the kiss Sutan gave her. Violet’s hand was still on his cock, her fingers slowly squeezing and he wasn’t even sure if she was aware that she was doing it, but as Sutan ran a hand over her stomach and down between her legs, he felt Violet gasp, the girl bucking against him as two fingers gently parted her folds, everything still wet and hot.

“Nothing is ruined.” 

***

Violet was lying on Sutan’s chest. She was pleasantly sore and wonderfully relaxed, the sex some of the best she had ever had, not that she had a lot to compare it with. Sutan was endlessly better than her first boyfriend, but it somehow didn’t feel fair to hold Milk to the standard of a grown man when they had done it in dorm beds, their sex defined by exhaustion after long days of work or started by the simple need feel the other ones body, both of them terrified that they’d be discovered.

Violet hid a yawn, the fact that she was so comfortable actually a problem.

“Do you need the bathroom?” Sutan looked down, his hand slowly running up and down her bare back. 

“No.” Violet sat up, her hair without a doubt a mess, but she didn’t miss how Sutan’s eyes instantly went to her breasts. “I have to go.”

“You have to go?” Sutan pushed himself up. He was smiling, but he also looked a little confused. “I’m not kicking you out?”

“I know.” Violet gave him a gentle peck, “But I have work tomorrow and I didn’t bring a change of clothes.” 

Violet didn’t want to know what time it was, didn’t want to even think about how hard it’d be to get up the following day, but she had done worse, and she’d survive this too. 

“I’ll call you a cab.”

Violet kissed Sutan one last time before she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, the hunt for her bra beginning.

“I can get one myself.”

“I insist.” Sutan got out of bed too, and if Violet took a second or two to look at him, that was her business. “It’s the least I can do.”   



	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Bang Time. 
> 
> This Chapter: It’s party time when Fame finally approves the new Spring line. Also: Trixie paints, Courtney gets a windfall, and an out of town visitor stops by.

On Thursday morning, a roar sounded through Galactica, as Fame had finally approved the last of the changes to the spring collection. Trixie blasted “We Are the Champions” on repeat as he popped several bottles of champagne, serving it to everyone in everything from empty Starbucks cups to glass jars as they were finally, finally, finally free after more than three weeks of constant soul crushing hope smashing hard work. 

“Trixie, it’s Alyssa for you,” Kandy told him, pointing to the phone beside him, line one flashing green. 

He rolled his eyes and picked up. “Hello?” 

“Sir. Please turn off that hideous straight boy noise and bring your team upstairs to join us for a real party,” Alyssa said. “We still have almost an hour before the meeting and I think a little dancing is in order.” 

“Fine, fine,” Trixie laughed. “We’re coming now. But I really don’t think you can call Queen ‘straight boy noise.’” 

“Whatever. Just come up!” Alyssa gave him a definitive tongue pop before hanging up the phone.

Trixie turned to his employees. “Party upstairs in marketing!” 

“What about the Fashion Week meeting?” asked Blu anxiously. 

“That, my dear, is a problem for our future selves.” 

***

Pearl sat in her office, her legs on her desk as she folded paper planes and then threw them into her trash can, while listening to The Clash, trying to drown out the disco that was blasting from the bullpen. 

Pearl didn’t respond to the knock on the door, but Trixie opened it anyway, a smile on his face.

“The Clash? Really?”

“Shut up, I’m heartbroken.” Pearl held up her hand, flipping him off before leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes, turning up her music.

Trixie signed.

“You’re not heartbroken.”

“Am so.”

“Stop pouting, Pearl. You know how many girls you’ve been a dick to? So this one doesn’t want you. Well, serves you right.”

Pearl cracked an eye open, her nose crinkling into a frown.

“It does! So come on...we’re going to join the others, and you’re gonna have a couple of drinks and get over yourself. Fashion Week is coming up and we need you to be on your A game.”

Trixie held open the door, beckoning her to follow.

With a groan, Pearl begrudgingly stood up and followed Trixie out of her office.

“Shut up, I’m always on my A game.”

“As if.”

They both laughed, Trixie putting his arm around Pearl as he ushered her towards the celebration.

***

“No, you can’t go.”

“But Violeeet,” Courtney whined, laying over her desk, looking at Violet with gigantic puppy dog eyes. Everything in their office was basically shaking along to the rhythm of “It’s Raining Men” from the floor below. “Pleeease.”

“No.”

“Why do they get to party, and not us? It’s not fair!”

“Because it’s our time to work now, so be quiet and get to it, there are a tough few weeks ahead.”

Even though Violet’s words were harsh, Courtney didn’t feel cut by them; she didn’t even feel intimidated by the fact that Violet apparently didn’t think of the last two weeks as tough. She was too proud of the fact that she’d finished all of the packets for the marketing meeting--and early, too. 

She closed the final folder with a flourish. 

“All done!” 

“Already? Good job.” Violet stood up and walked to her desk, picking up one of the folders, brow wrinkling. “Why is it so light? Did you forget one of the sections?” She opened the folder and began to look through.

“No, it’s all there! I triple-checked!” Courtney chirped happily. 

“Courtney.” Violet closed her eyes. “Did you print the meeting materials  _ duplex _ ?” 

The way Violet spat out the word, it sounded like a slur, and Courtney was confused. It made perfect sense to her to print everything double-sided. She’d saved over two reams of paper that way. 

“Well, yeah. I figured we’d save a ton of paper if-” 

“Did I ask you to print duplex? Huh?” Violet demanded, slamming the folder down. 

“No, but I thought-” 

“Well luckily for all of us, it’s not your job to think, because you’re not very good at that, are you? It’s your job to follow instructions!” 

Courtney nodded slowly, the light in her completely turned off compared to the happy, bubbly girl she had been only moments before. 

“I’m sorry, Violet. I’ll redo them.” Courtney picked up the master documents again, biting her lip. 

Violet instantly felt bad, like she had kicked a puppy.

“You know what? It’s fine. Maybe no one will notice,” Violet sighed. “Why don’t you go join the party while I prepare the boardroom for the Fashion Week meeting?”

Courtney lit up, the smile reappearing on her face.

“Really?! But you just said-”

“Yes really, now go before I change my mind. Have fun. You have 30 minutes.”

“Thank you!”

***

Pearl was in a horrible mood. The boardroom was filled to the brim with people from every department. There were even a few interns squeezed around the perimeter of the conference table, and it made the room cramped and uncomfortable to be in.

Pearl had been fuming on the inside since last Sunday where Violet had closed her door right in her face. No one had ever done anything like that to Pearl, and what was worse, she didn’t even know why.

Violet was tripping around the edge of the boardroom, clearly anxious since she had little to no control of the situation. Normally everything would have been perfectly crisp, neat and organized which were not the words anyone could use to describe the situation they were in now. Pearl smiled, satisfied, to herself when she could see Violet practically scream on the inside when Kim Chi dropped part of her meatball sub on the table, using her meeting agenda to wipe the sauce away.

Pearl leaned back in her chair, everything suddenly a lot less irritating now that Violet was officially losing it.

***

“Alyssa, I want invites sent out as soon as possible, you can borrow Laganja to get it done. Trixie, I know you have worked incredibly hard but I need you through the home stretch. Prepare a backstage team for Fashion Week, I want everything double and triple checked. Pearl, find every contact you can and make them aware of our show. Violet confirmed the location yesterday and has found a garden team that can hopefully transform our venue into the tropical jungle we wanted. Ivy, I expect you to run the style department for the next few days while we rebook our models, and yes Trixie, we will try to stay close to your vision. Raja is pulling in favors right now and we hope we can get everything confirmed Monday. You’re dismissed. Oh, and Kim, please clean up after yourself before you leave.”

***

Trixie stepped out of his taxi, looking around as he put his wallet into his fanny pack, then feeling guilty about it. Katya swore up and down that the Bronx neighborhood where she taught was perfectly safe, but he always found himself a little nervous there regardless. Nothing could ruin his mood today though, he was finally free after weeks of constant sewing, of spending countless hours in the fabric district looking for just the right shade, to endless phone calls with their suppliers, tailors and the long discussions with the botanist at The Royal Botanic Garden in Kew in England trying to get a hold of Marianna Norths original drawings.

He went through the side gate into the playground, heading for Katya’s classroom when he spotted her. She was on the east side of the schoolyard, her blonde hair collected in a high ponytail, her feet in wellies and a pair of overalls on, painting the wall in front of her. Right now Katya was working on a giant sun, so her hands, clothes and hair were covered in yellow and orange shades of paint.

“Hey Miss! I don’t have a library card, but do you mind if I check you out?”

“What?!”

Katya turned around, hands on her hips, trying to cover up a clearly amused expression with her most serious Scolding Teacher face, until she realized that it was Trixie who had called to her.

“Sugarbutt!!” Katya ran over to Trixie, her shoes making a whoosh sound with each step before she jumped into Trixie’s arms, covering the both of them in paint. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re finally finished with the collection, so I came to see you.” 

Trixie laughed as Katya clung to him like a tiny koala cub, the two of them enjoying being in each other’s company again after way too long without actually seeing each other.

“What are you up to here?” Trixie smiled, looking up at Katya, kissing her nose and the paint there.

“I’m painting! Look!” Katya wiggled until Trixie put her down. She pointed to the wall of the building, which was half gray concrete and half an explosion of color.

“I’m painting the ocean.” Katya smiled brightly. “This will be the coral reef and over here is the sunken ship with the scaaaarry ghosts and then way over there.” Katya pointed, “I’ll make Atlantis with all different kinds of mermaids!”

Trixie looked around, the wall was truly gigantic, his own smile matching Katya’s. “So you finally got the budget?”

“Well, not exactly.” Katya had grabbed her paintbrush again, continuing on the sun. She’d been lobbying her principal for the last year to get funding to decorate the courtyard where the youngest students spend their breaks.

“What do you mean not exactly?”

“We didn’t have the funds to buy the paint or hire a painter, so now I’m doing it myself!”

“Katya, are you committing vandalism on your own school?!”

“No, no of course not!” Katya held up her hands. “ I made a deal with the principal. I pay for the materials and do the painting myself.”

“And what’s his side of the deal? What do you get?” 

“Um...a pretty wall for the kids?” Katya smiled, clearly unbothered by the free labor she was doing if it would brighten her students’ day. 

“Well, in that case...” Trixie smiled, picking up one of the brushes. “What part do you want me to work on?”

“We need a colony of clown fishes over there.”

“Colony of clown fishes coming right up Ms. Zamolodchikova!” Trixie did a mock salute, immediately starting to fill out the sketches that Katya had done.

“Hey Trixie...”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

***

Courtney was sitting at her computer, absentmindedly checking Facebook and drinking a coconut water, enjoying the rare peace and quiet even though she knew she should be working; Violet had given her a spreadsheet with a massive list of names to confirm for Fashion Week, and she was only a third of the way through.

But on the other hand, Violet was out of the office, taking a trip to the tailors for Fame, who was at a charity function with Patrick, so the office was completely quiet. And there was no harm in a tiny break, right?

The door opened and Courtney jumped, quickly minimizing Safari and pulling up the Fashion Week Spreadsheet, pretending to be working.

“Hey Courtney.” Ivy smiled, the other’s teal shirt making her red hair look stunning. 

Courtney breathed a sigh of relief that it was just her, even though she’d never been fully at ease with Ivy. She had just never met anyone else who was as genuinely sweet and upbeat as the girl who was standing in front of her.

“Hey Ivy!” Courtney smiled as soon as she got herself under control. “What’s up? Fame isn’t here right now, and neither is Violet…”

“Oh, I know.”

“You do?” Courtney wrinkled her brow, looking at the overflowing shopping bags Ivy had placed on her desk. “Then what’s all of this? Are they for Fame? Should I store them here?”

“No Courtney,” Ivy laughed, pushing the bags towards Courtney. “They’re for you.”

“Really?!” Courtney looked into the bags and squealed happily. “Ivy… These are… These are real designer things!”

“I cleaned out the Warehouse, and most of this is too out of date to use for the website or shoots, so you’re welcome to take whatever you want.” Ivy smiled at Courtney’s enthusiasm, not telling her that the bags in front of her were mostly filled with the clothes that no one else wanted. But Ivy knew that Courtney would appreciate it--she’d seen the young assistant repeat articles of clothing enough times to know that her closet was nowhere near as full as most of their coworkers. 

Courtney grabbed a purse. “Oh my god! This is Marc Jacobs! And what are these? Banana Republic pants!” Courtney smiled, her enthusiasm making Ivy laugh while Courtney emptied out all of the bags, acting like a kid on Christmas as she clapped her hands in happiness over the Stuart Weitzmen shoes and Badgley Mischka dresses. And best of all, loads of Galactica pieces that she would never have been able to afford on her own. Finally, she’d be able to really fit in--and toss the tired black pencil skirt from Target that she’d worn about 4 times over the past few weeks.

Courtney looked up at Ivy, tears in her eyes.

“Thank you… Seriously… Thank you so so much Ivy.”

“Don’t mention it, we girls gotta look out for each other.”

***

_ SUTAN: Hey. Are you there?  _

_ VIOLET: Yes, why? _

Sutan smiled and leaned back into his chair. It was a little after eight, and Sutan was pretty sure he was the only person left in the office, not that he minded. His days often going by in a blur of everyone and their mother needing something, so it was nice to have the place to himself, giving him time to think.

_ SUTAN: Dinner at Annisa tomorrow? _

_ VIOLET: Can’t. Busy. _

Sutan wrinkled his brow. Busy? He stood up, getting a cigarette from his drawer before he opened the window, leaning out of it as he returned to his phone.

_ SUTAN: How hard is Fame riding you over there if you can’t go out? _

_ VIOLET: I think the question is how you’re not busy, Fashion Week is in 10 days? _

Sutan snorted. Fashion week was indeed in 10 days, as if anyone would let him forget it.

_ VIOLET: I want to have time. I promise. _

***

“To Karl!”

Fame laughed, the sounds of the groups glass clinking together filling the bar, Karl was smiling brightly as they toasted the man clearly enjoying the fact that he was the center of attention for the night, everyone treating him like a wayward son, even though he had been in New York two weeks earlier.

“So, what’s new in London?” Raja smiled, easily falling into conversation with Karl, who adored entertaining.

Fame loved drinks night with her friends. When they were in their twenties they had met up several times a week, but by now it was a miracle if she could get all of them together once a month for a weeknight cocktail or two.

Juju and Detox hadn’t been able to make it, but with a teenager and twins toddlers, they were somewhat excused. 

Fame took a sip of her drink, allowing herself to just sink back and fully enjoy the sounds and laughs of her favorite people talking and laughing together, the sounds of her husband’s chuckle next to her feeling like a warm blanket as she leaned against his side.

“So is no one else going to point out what’s going on with Sutan?” Bianca asked. 

Everyone turned their attention to Sutan, who looked up from his phone, a smile quickly fading from his face. 

“What?”

“Why do you look like that?” Bianca smiled, the woman clearly beyond entertained as she leaned on her hand, her finger twirling on the stem of her wine glass.

“Look like what?” Sutan put his phone down, and it didn’t escape Fame’s notice that he made sure to flip his screen to the table. Maybe he did actually have something to hide.

“I don’t know, weird,” Bianca said. 

“I don't look weird, you look weird,” Sutan retorted childishly, which made Bianca cackle and attempt to kick him under the table.

“She's right,” Raja said, head tilted. “You  _ do _ look weird. You're all…”

“Smiley?” asked Karl, taking a handful of peanuts from the table.

“Yes! That's it! It's creepy,” said Bianca. 

“My smile is  _ not _ creepy!” Sutan groaned. “Why are we even talking about me?”

“Don’t listen to them.” Karl smiled, which earned him a squeeze on his arm from Sutan.

“Thanks, Karl.” 

“It is a little bit creepy,” Raven chimed in.

Fame giggled.

“See?” asked Bianca. “Even Raven agrees, and we all know her favorite pastime is arguing with me.”

Raven threw her hair over her shoulder, and Fame was very pleasantly surprised that she wasn’t going to argue that point. Bianca and Raven were almost always throwing insults at each other, and while it was entertaining most of the time, it also got very draining in the long run.

"Raven, remember that I'm your boss.”

"Manager," she corrected.

"Boss. Now pack up the attitude." Sutan folded his arms, feigning seriousness, but a hint of his dopey smile remained. 

Fame leaned forward, telling him, “I think your smile is beautiful, Tan.”

“Thank you!” 

“Yikes,” Raven muttered, making Bianca snicker. 

“You know what, it  _ is _ beautiful! Fuck all the rest of you, except you Karl, you can stay.”

“Thanks man.” Karl gave Sutan’s cheek a kiss, which made him roll his eyes and growl.

“See, now you look normal,” Bianca declared, gesturing to his now sullen pout, no one noticing the flash of hurt on Karl’s face.

***

[So.] Sutan almost wanted to sigh at the sound of his sister’s voice, Raja sliding in next to him at the bar. [What’s going on with you?]

Raja was stunning in her black jumpsuit with a green top underneath, heavy golden jewelry on her arms, her long hair styled with tiny braids that made her look like a warrior goddess.

[Nothing is going on.] Sutan picked up his beer, hoping that his sister would leave him alone, but he was never that lucky.

[Please.] Raja smiled. [You’ve never been able to lie to me, Tantan.]

[I don’t know what you’re talking about.]

[You’re seeing someone.]

[Wha-] Sutan groaned, realizing that the battle was probably lost for good. He sat down, and Raja took a seat next to him, his sister flagging the bartender for a drink. [How did you know?]

[Are you asking me that?] Raja raised an eyebrow. [I know you, brother dear. The smiles, the texting, the fact that you suddenly couldn’t make dinner last week-]

[I told Raven at work-] Sutan guessed that he had technically told Raven in passing, but what was a sister in law worth if he couldn’t send messages along.

[So who is she?] Raja smiled.

Sutan opened his mouth to explain Violet, the ever mysterious, beautiful weird new girl in his life, but then realized he couldn’t. And further, he didn’t want to. He was enjoying having her all to himself right now, and not terribly anxious to break the spell. 

[Let me keep this one.]

Raja raised an eyebrow. [So it’s serious?]

Sutan shrugged, and Raja kissed his cheek.

[I love you,] she said. [Even when you’re pretending to be mysterious.]

Sutan smiled.

[I love you too.]


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Sutan was smitten with a mysterious new girl, and Fame finally approved the Fashion Week designs. 
> 
> This Chapter: A mystery, a flea market, an apology, a high society gathering, and a bedtime story.

_“Come in!”_

Katya pushed open Pearl’s door, then stood there, arms crossed, a deeply unhappy look on her face. Katya didn’t get mad very often, so when she did, people took it very seriously. Pearl took one look at her and scrambled up into a seated position on her bed. 

“What’s wrong?” Pearl asked, a little worried. 

“What did you do to Violet?” 

“What…” Pearl scoffed, slightly offended. “What makes you think I did something?”

“Well, this is the third week in a row that she’s turned down our brunch invite. So naturally I assume you broke her poor heart. Didn’t you?!” 

“No!” Pearl exclaimed. “In fact, if anyone broke anyone’s heart, it’s her! She completely ditched me at the Vogue party and now she’s acting like I don’t even exist.” 

Katya narrowed her eyes, contemplating this claim. Pearl’s eyes were wide and innocent and she looked like she was telling the truth, but Katya wasn’t buying it. Something didn’t smell right. 

“Huh.” Katya sat down beside Pearl on the bed. “Walk me through the party. Everything you remember.” 

“Okay, so it started out great. She looked super hot; I looked super hot.”

“Naturally,” Katya chuckled. 

“She didn’t want to do the whole step and repeat thing, but of course I have to, so she kind of stood to the side while I took some pictures, and I was like, clowning and flirting with her, and she seemed _really_ into it. Real giggly and adorable.” 

“Okay...” Katya raised an eyebrow.

“And then we went in, and she just...disappeared.” Pearl groaned. “I couldn’t find her anywhere. And the next thing I knew, she was sitting at the bar, flirting with some dude, having the time of her life-”

“Go back,” Katya said. “When you went into the party, you’re saying that she disappeared without saying one word to you?” 

“Well, no, she said that she was going to get us drinks.” 

“And what were you doing while she was getting drinks, Pearl?” Katya asked. 

“I was dancing. Waiting for her! And...oh, shit.” Realization dawned in Pearl’s eyes. “Do you think she saw that girl kiss me?”

Katya covered her face with her hands, moaning, “Peeeearl, for fuck’s sake!” 

“Well it was only like a second! A few seconds, tops! And I pushed her away!” Pearl defended herself. “And anyway, why wouldn’t she have said anything?!” 

“Does she strike you as the type who enjoys confrontation?” Katya asked pointedly. 

“No. No, definitely not. Ugh, fuck.” 

“And anyway, what did _you_ say when you saw her at the bar?”

“Uhhh...I kinda just...left.”

“Pearl!” Katya admonished.

“I was pissed! And I don’t like confrontation either.” Pearl crossed her arms sullenly. 

“You need to talk to her.” 

“Well, I’ve tried, Katya, but she doesn’t want to!” 

Katya placed a hand on Pearl’s shoulder and said, “Try again.” 

Pearl nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” 

***

“Patrick! Patrick, come here!”

Patrick looked around, trying to locate the face of his wife in the crowd of poorly-dressed shoppers who were surrounding them.

Fame had come home last night, fully drained after a long week at the office. When her mood and her energy levels hadn’t recovered after a long bath, Patrick had made a decision.

The Grand Market Place in New Jersey was one of Fame’s favorite places on Earth. Honestly, any flea market where Fame could walk around in peace was her happy place. Patrick had gotten their car out nice and early, not telling Fame where they were going until they were well on their way to the Lincoln tunnel, where she figured it out.

Patrick finally located Fame, waving at her as he made his way towards his wife, two strawberry melon coolers in his hand, one for each of them.

“Look! Look!” Fame smiled, her entire face lighting up as she held up a small porcelain figurine of a chicken.

“It’s a Royal Copley! See! The stamp is still there!” Fame turned the chicken upside down and showed him the bottom and the brand of the figurine. “It’s an original, I have to have this! It’s an Araucana, my favorite breed!”

Patrick laughed, basking in the joy Fame was radiating. He had sworn on his life that he would never tell anyone that Fame was an avid collector of porcelain animals, but chickens in particular. Her private collection had nearly 100 small chickens meticulously on display in one of Fame’s workrooms.

“I know it is, baby.” Patrick traded the drink and held his hand out for the figurine. Fame took a sip and smiled, not a single complaint falling from her lips over the sweetness of the drink as she turned around and started to argue with the woman in the stall over the price.

Patrick smiled to himself, thankful for the dork of a woman he had chosen to marry. Fame had grown up on a farm, her dad specializing in the breeding of rare chicken breeds for competitions all over the country and he loved seeing the side of her she normally kept so carefully hidden from the rest of the world.

Patrick took a sip of his drink, watching his woman. Spending some time outside of New York where literally no one knew either Fame or himself had been the right decision for today. It was liberating in the best of ways and just what they both needed, a Saturday away from the city in the early September sun.

***

Violet would have never opened the door if it wasn’t for the insistent knocking. She had tried to ignore it, had even made a cup of tea while desperately attempting to tune it out, but as the kettle whistled, Violet’s nerves had finally broken down.

She opened the door, only to be greeted by the sight of Pearl’s face, her hand raised to knock for the hundredth time.

“Violet-” 

“Go away.”

Violet tried to close the door, but Pearl shoved her foot forward, her heavy leather boot the only thing saving it from getting crushed.

“Please-” Pearl groaned, her hand grabbing the door and prying it open. “I brought you a housewarming gift.”

Pearl tilted her hip, and Violet saw that she was carrying a basket of what had to be top-shelf liquor.

“You can keep it.”

Violet tried to close the door again, but Pearl’s grip was too strong.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the whole mess-”

Violet paused. Pearl never apologized. Ever. Sure, the blonde pleaded and played cute, knowing just how to say sorry without the words ever leaving her mouth, but she had just said them, and from what Violet could see, she actually meant them too.

“Can I come in, please?” Pearl sighed. “I really need to talk to you.”

“Fine.” Violet took a step back. “Two minutes.”

Violet had intended to be in control, but it wasn’t until she had let Pearl in that she realized the blonde hadn’t been in her apartment yet.

“Nice decor.”

Violet felt a flush of shame wash over her. She hadn’t gotten anything done with her place, the apartment just as empty as it had been when she had just moved in, but with Courtney taking all her time at work, and Sutan getting what little she could spare outside of it, she hadn’t had time to get anything done.

“You wanted to talk-” Violet leaned against the wall. “Talk.”

It was clear that Pearl wasn’t used to being put on the spot, but she recovered quickly.

“First of all, I thought you were a real bitch when you randomly ditched me to flirt with some guy.”

Violet’s eyes widened. “Wha-” Pearl was being wildy unfair. “That’s not what happen-”

“And it really fucking _bothered_ me. Especially because that didn’t seem like you. Ditching someone I mean-”

“I didn’t-”

”And I might have realized earlier today that you possibly saw me on the dance floor.”

Pearl’s admission felt like a slap to the face all over again. Violet had tried to forget Pearl kissing the redhead, she really had, but it seemed like the world was intent on reminding her of it every chance it got.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does. Vivi, I swear, she’s just someone I used to mess around with. I pushed her away right after she kissed me. The only person I wanted that night was you. Pinky swear.”

“Pearl…” Violet wanted to accept the pinky swear, wanted to forgive Pearl so badly, the woman was one of the few people she considered friends, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t hurting.

“I miss you.” 

“I miss you too.”

It was true. Violet missed Pearl, missed their friendship, missed having fun and feeling young and stupid and so very alive. 

“Can we please just be friends again?”

A part of Violet wanted to say no, wanted to do what she always did which was run away, but for once, she knew it was worth the risk.

“Of course.”

Hugging Pearl felt amazing, and Violet clung to her friend, her fingers buried in her blonde locks. 

***

Violet hurried down the stairs, fumbling with her earring as she took them two at a time. She hated herself, but she was almost late to be picked up, the clock in the lobby telling her she only had two minutes before she was supposed to be out on the street.

Violet hadn’t meant to take so long, hadn’t wanted to be almost late, but she had changed her clothes one too many times, her stomach filled with fluttering butterflies of nervousness.

Sutan had invited her out over text two days ago, and while Violet had agreed right away, it was driving her up the wall that she had no idea what they were doing and where they were going.

He had only told her to dress up, and that he had their tickets already booked, which wasn’t really much to go on.

Violet had agonized over what to wear for hours, but had ended up settling on a red evening gown, overdressed seeming like a much better option than underdressed.

She closed the lock on her earring, but as she reached out to grab the door, she felt her phone start to buzz away in her clutch. She could see Sutan through the glass in the door, a phone to his ear.

“I’m here!”

Sutan turned around, a smile breaking out on his face as he recognized her. He tapped on his phone, and Violet’s clutch finally stopped buzzing. 

“Hello lovely eyes.”

Violet was just about to open her mouth to return his greeting, when she realized that he was holding a half-smoked cigarette.

“I didn’t know you smoked.” Violet bit her lip. This was the first time she had seen a cigarette in Sutan’s hand, his apartment not smelling of smoke at all.

“I don’t.” 

Violet raised an eyebrow, and Sutan laughed. 

“Okay, so, I guess I’m obviously smoking right now.” Sutan dropped the cigarette, and stepped on it, Violet barely holding in a groan as she couldn’t help but worry about the Gucci sole. “Raja has me by the balls with the whole new models thing.”

“Ah…” Violet was well aware, too aware, that Fame had already rejected over half of the girls Elite had suggested. “I’m sorry.” 

“Let’s not talk about work.” Sutan held a hand out, and Violet took it. She had expected him to pull her in for a kiss or a hug, but instead, he spun her around.

“Suta-” Violet wanted to protest, but her muscle memory had already taken over, her body following his lead as she twirled once, twice, before Sutan stopped her again.

“You look gorgeous.” Sutan smiled, her hand still in his. “Is it Valentino?”

Violet nodded. “2011.”

“It suits you.” Sutan pulled her in, and Violet followed, the man clearly going for a hello kiss, but Violet turned her head to the side, his lips hitting her cheek, clearly indicating to him that she wasn’t going to kiss someone who had just smoked.

“Mmh.” Sutan hummed against her cheek, and Violet barely contained a shiver, the scent of cigarettes and his aftershave overwhelming her. 

***

“How long does it take to get there?”

Violet leaned back against the seat, her black hair spilling over her long and slender arms. Sutan had been absolutely serious when he had complimented Violet’s outfit, the red dress spectacular. The chest was what drew his attention though, her delicate collarbones standing out, flounces flanking the bare skin, Violet’s small breasts half covered by the fabric.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Sutan smirked, his driver pulling out from the sidewalk.

“Fine.” 

“You’re not even going to pretend to want to know?” When he had told Violet he was keeping the evening date a surprise, he had expected a pointed reply, some nagging or at least a few texts, but Violet had simply accepted it, the woman he was sharing his car with once again so different from everyone else he would normally date.

“I can be patient.” Violet smiled, a teasing glint in her eyes.

“It’s no fun if you’re not fighting to find out.” Sutan flicked Violet’s earring, which made her yelp and laugh, his move earning him a slap on the thigh. “We’re going to the reception for the new Ralph Pucci exhibition.”

“Wha-” Violet turned towards him. “Are you kidding me? Ralph Pucci, the Ralph Pucci? Are you taking me to the reception of ‘The Art of the Mannequin’ exhibition at the MET?”

“The one and only.”

***

Violet was filled with glee.

She was at an actual reception at the MET as a proper guest. It was something she had longed for as a fashion student, and something she missed from her younger days, the atmosphere of a cultural premiere always something special. 

They had already watched the opening talk and Sutan had gotten them glasses of champagne, the man offering his arm to her without question. 

Violet had scanned the room when they had arrived, but there was no one there that she knew, no one who could potentially recognize her for who she used to be. 

It was wonderful to walk through the exhibition with Sutan, the man saying quick hellos left and right, but he never strayed from Violet’s side. They each emptied two more glasses of champagne, sharing a few pieces of fruit from the platters the waiters carried around the museum halls.

“Oh.” Sutan leaned down, his breath hot as he whispered into Violet’s ear. “I just spotted Cory Bautista.”

“The co-owner of Model Management?” 

“Of course you know who he is,” Sutan chuckled. “I have to go talk to him. Will you be okay on your own?” 

“Afraid I can’t take care of myself?” Violet reached out, gently adjusting Sutan’s suit jacket.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Sutan placed a quick kiss on her lips before he walked away, allowing Violet to wander around the exhibition. She had no idea if Sutan had just been lucky when he picked the night's activity, but for Violet it was an absolute joy to get to look at and read about the history and evolution of the fashion mannequin and it’s creator. 

Violet was just reading a sign, when she heard a voice besides her. 

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” It was a soft female voice, her tone almost melodical. “An artist who is actually appreciated in his own time.”

“It is…” Violet smiled to herself. She didn’t turn around, the art in front of her too exciting. “Can you believe they’re actually showing the original 1979 action mannequins? And look, they even have some of Michael Everts prototypes. Isn’t it fascinating? I love how you can clearly see the evolution.”

“Oh wow,” The voice chuckled. “You’re a real expert, huh?”

“Hardly.” Violet shook her head, “but I graduated from Parsons two years ago.”

“And what do you do now then? Do you work for the museum?”

“No, I actually-” Violet turned around, surprised to find an unmistakably familiar face. A face she’d seen splashed across tabloid covers while standing in line for the checkout as a child, the cheerful looking redhead providing some of the most colorful stories during the late 90s and early 2000s.

“Ms. Monsoon.”

“Jinkx.” The woman smiled warmly and held out her hand. She seemed charming and sweet, nothing like the irresponsible, brazen party girl the tabloids had painted her as years back. “And you are?” 

“Violet. My name is Violet. I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect to see you…” Violet trailed off uncertainly. 

“Standing upright and speaking in coherent sentences?” Jinkx guessed with a chuckle. 

“Well, no, I just-” 

“It’s fine, sweetie. It’s always nice to surpass people’s expectations, even if they’re rock bottom.” Jinkx gave another crooked smile, the mischievous glint in her brown eyes telling Violet that she was in no way offended. 

“I like your dress.” 

Jinkx was wearing a bright scarlet gown. It was clearly custom made, the cut telling its own story of a competent tailor, but Violet wasn’t sure she would have ever paired it with Jinkx’s copper hair and red lipstick. The colors should be clashing horribly, but somehow, it was working

“Thank you! Coming from a Parsons alum, that’s quite the compliment,” Jinkx said. “You never told me where you work these days.” 

“Oh, I’m at Galac-” 

“Hey-” Violet turned around as Sutan walked up behind her, pressing a quick kiss against her temple. “Sorry I was gone for so-” 

It was then that Sutan looked up, his entire body stiffening as he recognized who Violet was talking to.

“Jinkx.” 

“Sutan, well well well. I’m not going to say I didn’t expect to see you here, but I certainly didn’t expect to see you in such excellent company.” 

Violet couldn’t help but notice how quickly Jinkx’s demeanor had changed. She glanced from Sutan to Violet and then briefly at the ceiling, her face unreadable. She leveled her gaze back at Sutan, looking straight into his eyes, making Violet feel more than a little uncomfortable as Sutan responded to Jinkx’s stare.

“You’re looking very… radiant tonight.” 

Violet could hear a sour, mocking note in Sutan’s silky voice. She had no idea what was going on, had never seen Sutan like this before and she couldn’t recognize the man who had whispered into her ear merely minutes before, the energy he was giving off now reminding her of Raja on her worst days.

“Whoaaa… Alert the presses,” a voice called out. “Since when are you two allowed in the same room?” 

Violet turned to see none other than Bianca Del Rio approaching the group. 

_Shit. Shit shit shit._

Violet couldn’t be sure that Bianca actually knew who she was, or would recognize her out of the context of the office, but she wasn’t prepared to stay and find out. She began to back away, doing her best to obscure her face from Bianca, her heart hammering away in her chest.

“Heya, red.” Bianca slipped an arm around Jinkx’s waist. “Is this asshole harassing you?” 

“Shut up, B,” Sutan said. “Actually, I was just about to take my date and-” He glanced around for Violet, who was by now standing by one of the mannequins on the other side of the room. “Um…”

“Uh oh. Boy wonder got ditched?” Bianca joked. 

“I knew she had good taste,” Jinkx replied, and both of them cackled gleefully. 

“I’m glad you’re well, Jinkx,” Sutan said, sounding like he had to muster all of his strength to get out the sentence. “I’ll leave you to it.” He managed a smile, “Also, Bianca? Kiss my ass.” 

Bianca laughed uproariously, raising her glass to him as he took his leave. 

“Love you too, Tan!” 

Sutan spotted Violet and took her hand, guiding her quickly to the far side of the room. 

“What was that about?” inquired Violet as soon as they were at a safe distance away.

Sutan took a deep breath. “Jinkx and I used to be…” he groaned, wincing, before finishing, “...involved.”

“Seriously?” Violet couldn’t imagine Sutan and Jinkx together if her life depended on it; they seemed too different, like night and day.

“Yes. It didn’t end well, to say the least. But...that was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Okay,” Violet said simply. If there was one thing she understood, it was the desire to forget your past, and who was she to probe, when there was so much she’d never want to share herself. 

***

“Are you comfortable, baby?”

Katya and Trixie were together in bed, both of them wearing their matching fluffy pajamas.

Trixie nodded, a smile on his face as he snuggled into Katya’s side. Trixie came home from his bar night with Pearl pretty drunk, so Katya had brushed his teeth and tucked him into bed.

“Good.” Katya smiled and leaned down, placing a sweet kiss on Trixie’s forehead before she picked her book up. She had learned through countless nights in Trixie’s bed that there was nothing that put him to sleep easier than a book he found utterly boring.

“In 2008, a study from the University of Texas at Austin found that, ‘There are many inadequate high school facilities in Texas, and unfortunately many of these are found in areas of low socioeconomic status and high minority percentages.’ The researchers also determined that inadequate high school facilities and poor classroom conditions had a negative impact on students’ academic performance.”

Katya stopped her reading, completely horrified with what she had just read.

Trixie looked up at Katya, a sad look on his face.

“Keep reading baby… Keep reading.”

Katya smiled a little.

“The researchers found that high school students perform better on tests if the classroom has a view of a green landscape, rather than a windowless room, or a room with a view of another building or a parking lot.”

“You’re my green landscape, baby.”

Katya leaned down and kissed Trixie’s little bald spot. “You’re my green landscape too, baby.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Violet got a much-needed apology, and a fancy night on the town. 
> 
> This Chapter: A wild night, a lazy Sunday, and a Monday morning of pure chaos.

Courtney twirled and twirled on the dance floor, leaning into the dizzying feeling, the bass pumping to the beat of her heart, feeling freer and happier than she’d been in weeks. She was out with a group of her closest friends--girls she’d known since college, who all happened to find themselves in New York, trying desperately to make it. 

Adore was there, of course, her bestie and soulmate and favorite person in the world. 

They’d been joined at the hip since the second week of Courtney’s freshman year, when they’d both been cast in their college production of RENT. 

Adore had a phenomenal voice, but her dancing left some room for improvement, so the producer had asked Courtney (who had also given a great audition for Mimi, but unfortunately had the wrong skin color so they saddled her with Maureen instead) to step in and help. Watching her tonight, Courtney couldn’t help but proudly note that her sexy stripper moves had certainly improved with time. 

Courtney had grown up watching American movies and television and thus, couldn’t wait to join a sorority when she got to school. Even though it ended up being a bit different than she’d expected, she had made some fabulous friends there. Tyra was one of the most glamorous people she’d ever met, and she was constantly in awe of her style and grace. She had secured a coveted paid internship at one of the biggest ad agencies in the city, and Courtney knew she’d absolutely crush it there, rising to the top just like she always did. 

Tatianna, her precious Tati, was the baby of the group. Two years behind Courtney in school, she’d been her “little sister” freshman year, but left school early to pursue a modeling career, currently pounding the pavement in pursuit of an agent. She worked hard, but she played hard, too. Courtney laughed as she threw back another shot with Adore, but then handed her a water bottle, never quite shaking the slightly protective feeling she had for her. She herself had learned long ago that trying to keep up with Adore and Morgan where drinking was concerned was a surefire recipe for an absolutely hideous hangover, but Tati hadn’t made that same discovery just yet. (Or, she just didn’t care, which was also possible, and part of her charm.)

Courtney had met Morgan before all of them, even before classes started that first year, at a welcome reception for international students. A brazen, hilarious Scot with a wicked sense of humor, she and Courtney had bonded instantly that night, laughing about how soft and prim Americans were, after Courtney’s roommate begged her to wear pajamas instead of sleeping naked like she always had. They had pledged together, and remained close throughout their whole time in school. 

Tyra grabbed Courtney’s hand and pulled her in, and Courtney continued to dance amongst her friends, the music taking over, feeling alive in the best possible way. 

***

Violet yawned as she slowly rose to the top of consciousness. She was lying in Sutan’s giant bed, the soft sheets all around her, the pillow and mattress feeling absolutely amazing. Violet rolled over on her side, stretching before she pulled the duvet up under her chin.

She was wonderfully sore and sated. Sutan had offered to take her home after their date, but Violet had taken his hand and kissed his palm, Sutan smiling as he asked his driver to take them to his apartment.

Violet loved Sutan’s hands on her body, loved how sure he was when he touched her, how he never hesitated. It was hard for her to come with someone else, nearly impossible for her to tip over. She might have pretended to come, a small gasp clearly convincing Sutan, but the sex was nice, very very very nice, and Violet wouldn’t say no to another round.

She reached out, her hand searching for Sutan, but no one was there. 

Violet sat up and looked around. She was alone in the bedroom, but as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, she realized that she was naked.

Violet bit her lip. Her dress was hung over the door of Sutan’s closet, but she couldn’t very well put that on. Violet made a quick decision, grabbing Sutan’s shirt from the day before off of the floor. The cotton was creased, but it smelled just like him, and Violet smiled as she slipped it on, the fabric falling to cover the top of her thighs. 

Violet opened the door to the en-suite bathroom. She had expected to be forced to brush her teeth with her finger, but right there, on the edge of the sink was a toothbrush still in the packaging. Violet washed her face, brushed her teeth and braided her hair.

She still felt a little gross, a little unprepared, the fact that she was walking around in only a shirt and nothing else a strange sensation, but it also felt a little sexy and dangerous.

As Violet exited from the bathroom, she heard the music come from the opposite end of the apartment, smooth jazz washing over her as she followed the sound.

***

“Hurry up, baby! I want to see them feed the birds in the indoor rainforest! Come on!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

Trixie yawned as he followed Katya, who was very, very, very awake and had already ran ahead.

It was 9:30 on a Sunday, and Katya had been a bundle of energy since she had practically rolled him out of bed to get him up.

The two of them were in the Central Park Zoo, where Katya had begged to go for the last two weeks, but Trixie had simply been too busy to go with her, his only free time spent in a near comatose state as he had tried to catch up on the sleep he hadn’t gotten during the week.

Trixie watched Katya, a smile on his face. She had even dressed up for the occasion, her backpack decorated with animal keyrings and her “exploring kit.” She skipped along beside Max, who’d been more than happy to join them for this adventure, always up for the opportunity to go back to his original love of wildlife photography. The two of them led Trixie around the zoo, pulling him this way and that until he fully woke up, with the help of some cotton candy. 

“Oh, Trixie, look! Look!” Katya smiled, her entire face lighting up as she pointed at a small, blue, white and black bird. “It’s a Leucopsar rothschildi!”

“A what?” Trixie looked up from his project of taking the perfect Instagram picture of Katya and the birds.

“A Bali Mynah! It’s critically endangered.”

“There’s only 14 left in the wild.” Max chimed in.

Trixie came up to Katya’s side, and gave her a kiss. “I love it when you talk birdy to me.”

Against all of Trixie’s expectations, he ended up having an amazing day with Max and Katya at the zoo.

A seal splashed water at Max, one of the monkeys almost stole Trixie’s fanny pack, they all got more cotton candy and Katya even switched with Trixie halfway through so he could have both blue and pink--and at the end of the day, Katya almost cried when Trixie brought her a stuffed lion from the zoo store, all proceeds going to saving animals in the wild. 

Riding home with the two of them on the subway, Trixie could feel the sugar coma taking over, his eyelids drooping, head falling forward as he leaned heavily against Katya’s warm body. 

“I love you, baby,” Katya whispered, kissing the top of his head sweetly and wrapping her arm around his shoulders. 

***

_Beep, beep, beep, beep, beeeeeep!_

Violet groaned as she recognized the sound of her alarm. She fumbled for her phone, the charger underneath Sutan’s bedside table. She swore under her breath as she yanked it out, finally getting it open so she could turn her alarm off.

She sat up, careful not to wake Sutan as she leaned against the headboard. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Violet nearly jumped as she felt an arm reach over her lap, a hand settling on her hip. Sutan was looking up at her, one of his eyes lazily cracked open, a small smile on his lips. 

“Did I wake you up?” Violet put a hand in Sutan’s hair, carefully running her fingers through it. 

“What time is it?” 

“5:30.” 

“Urgh,” Sutan groaned, sounding genuinely disgusted with the situation, and Violet couldn’t help but chuckle. She guessed that was the privilege of being senior staff, Sutan probably able to show up whenever he wanted to. “Come back to bed, right now.”

Violet had to go to the gym, but as Sutan pulled on her, she couldn’t resist. She crawled back under the covers, Sutan’s hand sneaking under her t-shirt, his fingers playing with the elastic of the shorts she had borrowed as he closed his eyes once again.

“Sutan?”

“Yes lovely eyes?” Sutan growled a little, and Violet bit her lip.

“Why am I still here?” Violet hadn’t expected to spend the day at Sutan’s, had certainly not expected to stay another night, but he was so easy to be around, the two of them spending the day on the couch where they had listened to music, watched movies (though Violet hadn’t cared too much) and made dinner between rounds of sex.

“Well-” Sutan opened his eyes. “Sometimes when a man asks a woman to come home with him, she says yes.”

Violet rolled her eyes. “Idiot.” She leaned forward, pressing a kiss against Sutan’s forehead, before she made another attempt to untangle herself.

“Hey-” Sutan gripped her hip, a flash of warmth rushing over Violet’s body. “Stay?”

“I can’t-” Violet sighed. “I have to be at work at 7:30-”

“7:30? I really hope Fame pays you well.”

She didn’t, but Violet wasn’t going to point that out. 

“I have nothing to wear.” She had to get going if she wanted to make it home to her apartment and change, but the last thing she wanted was to put on her dress from Saturday and go all the way from Harlem to her apartment in Kip’s Bay and then back uptown for work. “I mean, I don’t even have a bra.”

“If you stay here, you can borrow something from me.” Sutan was actually fully awake now, a wicked smile growing on his face.

“What?” Violet wrinkled her brow. “Don’t be stupid…” Violet could feel herself getting seduced, she could stay, technically, if Sutan really had clothes she could wear to the office. Ivy could pull clothes for her to borrow, and she could figure everything else out.

“Stay.”

***

Normally Sutan would have thrown a fuss from another dimension if anyone had forced him out of bed before 7, but somehow it was okay when he got to dig through a box of his boyhood clothes with a girl that looked like sin wearing his pants.

“Isn’t it a little worrying that we basically use the same pants size?” Violet turned to the side, her brown eyes watching herself in the mirror on the back of the door. Her upper body was bare, her still damp black hair spilling straight down her back, her small breasts on full display. 

“They’re from when I was 21-” Sutan handed her a belt, and Violet took it. “I used to be a skinny little thing.” 

Violet lifted a brow, looking up and down his body, clearly not buying the idea that Sutan had been even thinner, and he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Believe me, I know I’m slender, but Raja and I both used to be rail thin.” 

Sutan dug into the box in front of him, quietly thanking Raja for saving all of his clothes in the back of his closet, his sister sealing them in plastic bins when he wasn’t looking. 

“It was 95, everyone looked like they were on coke.” 

(Not that Violet would ever need to know that he had actually been on coke for most of the 90’s.) 

“Here, try this.” Sutan held out a shirt, Violet quickly pulling it over her head, and Sutan took a second to mourn the fact that she was no longer topless.

“You were 21 in 95?”

“I’m glad you can do math, darling.” Sutan smiled. “That color looks all wrong on you. Try this one instead.” Sutan held out a striped sweater, Violet taking it from his hands.

“In 95, I was excited to start preschool...”

“Does that bother you?” Sutan looked at Violet, the woman’s head popping through the hole in the sweater. Violet looked uncomfortable, like she would rather not be having this conversation, her teeth biting into her lips.

He had asked her once before, her reply then that she didn’t care, but Sutan realized that he had to know if it was still true. “Does it bother you that I’m older than you?”

“No.” Violet didn’t look at him, her eyes fixed on her hands that were slowly pulling at the fabric of the sweater she was wearing. “No, it’s just.. Sometimes I worry that, that I’m not… Enough.”

Sutan rose to his knees. “You’re more than not.” Sutan smiled, tilting his head up. “I promise you that.”

Violet leaned down, gently kissing him when her alarm went off in the background.

“God I hate your phone.”

***

Courtney ran past the dark reception desk, down the hall towards the office. Violet had called her fifteen times in the last 20 minutes, Courtney recognizing the sign of a crisis on the subway immediately as soon as the war dialing began. Apparently, there was some kind of disaster with the Fashion Week confirmations that she’d been handling, and she was terrified to find out what it was. 

She rounded the corner at full speed, stopping short in her tracks by a sight she never thought she’d see in a billion years. Violet stood at the printer, wearing _jeans_. Not just jeans. _Boy’s_ jeans, held up with a belt. She actually looked pretty cute, having paired the jeans with chic silver heels and a black and white sweater. But nevertheless, it caught Courtney completely off-guard and she paused, looking her up and down in wonder. 

That’s when Violet looked up sharply, seeing her standing in the doorway, and the gates of hell opened. 

“Finally! Where the hell have you been?!” 

“It’s only 5 til 8-” Courtney began, but Violet immediately interrupted. 

“What’s wrong with you? Are you suffering from a head injury, or are you just this fucking stupid?” 

Courtney set her mouth in a firm line. Her heart was pounding, unable to think of what her fuck-up possibly could have been, a lump rising to her throat. She wished that Violet would just tell her the problem directly instead of berating her and forcing her to wait in dread of what was coming, but she supposed that was part of her punishment for...whatever she’d done wrong. 

“No.”

“You’re not stupid?”

“I-”

“Did I or did I not tell you to call and confirm _every single name_ on that spreadsheet last week?” Violet pointed at Courtney’s computer.

“You did, but-” 

“And did I or did I not tell you to send me a status update before you left on Friday with all the confirmations checked off in green and a list in the email of anyone you couldn’t reach?” 

“Yes!” Violet had left early, for once trusting Courtney to close things down and take care of all the end of day tasks. “I did that! Didn’t you get my email? I reached everyone, they’re all in green!” Courtney exclaimed. 

She knew that she was new at this job, and still learning every day, but she had no idea why Violet was angry with her right now. 

She’d followed her explicit instructions to the letter. 

“Come here.” Violet’s voice was low and scary, and Courtney immediately joined her at the computer. “This is the spreadsheet you sent back on Friday.” 

Violet opened the spreadsheet, and there it was. All names checked off in green, the day and time they’d been confirmed in column D. 

“And these…” Violet began to click through 5 more tabs, each one a separate list, each one with names all in black, as yet unconfirmed. “These are the tabs you missed because you are too much of an absolute imbecile to understand how excel works.” 

All of the blood drained from Courtney’s face, the room feeling off-kilter as she grew hot and dizzy, her heart pounding out of her chest. 

“There were…” Courtney swallowed, “more tabs?” she managed to whisper. 

“Yes, Courtney. There were more tabs. Which you would have known if you ever took your fucking head out of your fucking ass for long enough to pay attention to your job.” 

“I-I’m so sorry, I-” Courtney’s eyes filled with tears, which only seemed to enrage Violet more. 

“Do you realize what you’ve done? Do you realize how bad this could have gotten if I hadn’t caught your mistake?” 

“I didn’t mean to-”

“I asked you, I specifically asked you, to check every, single, fucking name,” Violet groaned. “You better pray that we can fix this before Miss Fame finds out.” 

“I will, Violet, I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes, I-” 

“Sit, get to work. I’m handling the vendors in the third tab, and the staff for the photoshoot, because god forbid you screw that up too, we’d all be absolutely fucked. Do not talk to me until every name on every other tab is accounted for. Got it?!” 

Courtney nodded, nearly tripping over her feet running to her desk. She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hands as her computer powered on, still feeling shaky and panicked. 

Thankfully, the tab that Courtney had seen the week before was the one marked “VIP,” so all of Galactica’s important guests were accounted for. At 8 am, she decided that the smartest list to do next was “Press,” because at least she’d be able to reach a human being. Her nerves began to settle as she made her way through the list, every single press outlet confirming their attendance. When she finally got to the end, it was almost 9, and she reported her progress to Violet. 

“Good.” Violet slammed a drawer shut, everything about her radiating annoyance. 

Courtney sighed internally. She checked out the last two lists: “H/M - Run Through” and “H/M – Show,” and realized there was quite a bit of overlap, Alaska clearly intending to book as many of the same people as possible for both days. 

She got right to work, mostly leaving voicemail messages and then following up with texts and emails. These people were freelance and since it was still early, she didn’t worry too much about them answering their phones. It wasn’t until she started to get calls and messages back that the real panic set in. 

“Um...Violet?” she asked softly, after highlighting the 10th name in red. 

“What?” Violet asked sharply, still clearly annoyed with her. She had only gotten in about 20 minutes of calls to the vendors before she had to stop to roll calls with Fame, and Courtney prayed that none of them would end up being a problem. 

“I, um...some of the people on Alaska’s lists are...already booked on other jobs. So...I’m not sure what to do now.” Courtney took a deep breath, determined not to cry. For one thing, she knew that it would just piss Violet off. And for another, she was determined to weather this disaster like an adult, no matter how much she felt like breaking down and sobbing her eyes out. 

“One moment,” Violet said into the phone, her voice soft and pleasant, professional as can be. Once she had Fame on the line, she muted herself and turned back to Courtney, dark eyes flashing with anger. “What now?” 

“I just...there’s like...at least 10 people who can’t do it, and-and I don’t know what to do,” Courtney admitted. 

“There’s nothing you can do.” Violet folded her arms. 

“But...then what do I do?” Courtney asked, biting her lip, using all of her strength to keep her voice from breaking. “Are there any backup lists, or a place I can go to find other people...I mean I have to be able to fix it, right?” 

“No.” Violet let out a long, put-upon sigh, eyes rolling up to the ceiling before she leveled her gaze back down at Courtney. “You can’t. So go downstairs, tell Alaska what you did, and pray that she doesn’t kill you on sight.” 

Alaska. Somehow, in the midst of all of this, it hadn’t occurred to Courtney until this moment that her screw-up would be creating a huge problem for the one executive at this company who had gone out of their way to show her kindness, the one person she was most desperate to impress. The guilt hit her like a tidal wave. 

“Who knows,” Violet said, going back to her computer. “Maybe you can use some of that patented charm to get yourself out of the mess you created.” Violet punctuated this statement with a dry, joyless chuckle, clearly not believing that Courtney would in fact get out of this situation alive. 

Courtney closed her eyes briefly and printed the two hair and makeup lists, then stood up. 

“Okay. I’m going downstairs,” she said, to nobody in particular, since Violet was back at her computer, typing an email and trying to stay on top of Miss Fame’s phone calls. 

Courtney took a deep breath, clutching her phone in her hands as she pulled the pages from the printer and made her way towards the stairs. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Monday morning madness when Violet discovered that Courtney screwed up the Fashion Week confirmations. 
> 
> This Chapter: Courtney faces the music, we meet a very determined reporter, and Violet loses her shit.

“Hey gorgeous! To what do we owe the honor of this visit?” Alaska asked cheerfully. 

Courtney stepped forward, into Alaska’s office. Even the charming decor, which usually filled Courtney with happiness, did nothing to alleviate the guilt that was pressing down on her lungs. 

“I have to tell you something.” 

“Shit, sounds serious,” Alaska said. “Okay, have a seat.” 

Courtney sat, biting her trembling lip and taking in a shaky, shallow breath. 

“They didn’t send you down here to fire me, did they?” Alaska giggled, then realized that Courtney wasn’t laughing along and grew slightly more somber, folding her hands. “What’s wrong, honey?”

She was just so nice, and it made Courtney hate herself even more. 

“I...really messed up.” 

“How so?” Alaska looked genuinely concerned, which only made Courtney feel worse.

“Um…” There was no way around it except biting the bullet. “I was handling the Fashion Week confirmations, but…” Courtney took a deep breath. “I missed some of the tabs on the spreadsheet, and so I didn’t reach out to people until this morning and some of them have taken other jobs.” 

“You ‘missed tabs’?” Alaska repeated, her voice filled with disbelief.

“Yeah, I just...I didn’t see that there was more than one, so-” 

Alaska sighed heavily, letting out a small, aggravated sound, before asking, “So then...okay, how bad is it?”

“Um…”

“How many people are unavailable, Courtney?” 

Courtney handed over the pages in her hands, unable to look Alaska in the eye. She just couldn’t face the disappointment and anger that she knew would be on her face right now. She pressed her lips together, still trying to hold back the flood of tears, cheeks burning hot with shame, as Alaska looked over the lists. 

“Jesus christ…” she muttered, then picked up the phone. “Kim? Hi, it’s me. Sooooo, there was a bit of a snafu with some of the Fashion Week staff and we need to pull names for alternates...Uh huh...Probably at least 15—...I know, I know. I’m sorry, this is...Yeah, you know what? Get me some recommendations from Yara Sofia, and I’ll see who’s working some of the shows 2 days before...Yeah, let’s make some calls and then reconvene in 30...Okay...Yeah, I get it, I’m sorry...Bye.” 

“I’m so sorry, Alaska,” Courtney said. “I don’t know how I could have been so careless. But...please just tell me what I can do to help you guys-”

“I think you’ve done enough. You should go.” 

Courtney nodded, swallowing down the lump in her throat and standing up. Telling herself that she just had to get to the bathroom before letting any tears fall. 

Without another word, she turned and ran, racing blindly for the nearest restroom, where she locked herself into a stall and finally let herself fall apart, crying like the useless baby that she was. What was she doing in this job? Who in their right mind thought it was a good idea to trust her with so many important tasks for such a huge company? How come, no matter how hard she tried, she was just never able to stay on top of it all? 

A few minutes later, she heard the door open and heels click softly as they walked towards her. 

She tried to get ahold of herself, especially once she saw the houndstooth pumps under the stall door, but it was no use. 

“Courtney.” 

“Y-yes?” 

“This sucks. Okay? And it’s gonna be a huge headache to fix, and just something we really didn’t need today on top of everything else we’re dealing with—”

“I know,” Courtney said, breath hitching. 

“—but...we’ll manage. Okay? So stop beating yourself up, and just do better in the future. I know you can.” Alaska paused before adding, “You’re better than this one mistake.”

Something about her kindness, even after all that, made Courtney lose it even more. A sob escaped her chest, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“Enough of this, okay?” Alaska said. “Take a minute, then wash your face and come back to my office. I have a job for you.” 

***

Courtney knocked tentatively on Alaska’s open door. She’d managed to pull herself together, and though everything in head was screaming to turn and run--from this company, from this job, from the silly dreams that kept her in this country--she’d forced herself to return and face the music. 

“Sit.” Alaska pointed to a spot on the sofa, where a phone and a blank notepad were lined up on the coffee table. “Violet said that we could borrow you for the afternoon, so you can help us get out of this mess. I’ve emailed you the contact info for a bunch of makeup artists and hairstylists. You need to find out their availability, and if they have recommendations. If they’re free, tell them we’ll return with confirmation and a deal memo by the end of the day.” 

Courtney nodded, sitting down and eagerly getting to work, relieved that she could have a small part of the solution. 

“And Courtney…” 

“Yes?” Courtney looked back up at her. 

“Everyone makes mistakes.” 

“Not Violet,” Courtney muttered, almost as a reflex, and Alaska burst out laughing. 

“Are you kidding? Violet’s been here for over a year now, but when she first got the job, that office was a mess.  _ Everyone _ makes mistakes. Trust me. The real test is what you do afterwards.” 

“Thanks, Alaska,” said Courtney, looking up at her with a smile for the first time all day. 

“No problem. Now get to work!” 

Courtney grinned, lifting the receiver and dialing the first number on her list. It took them almost 4 hours (and a bribe from Kim’s favorite sushi place to keep everyone working through lunch), but they eventually found people for all of the positions. When they finally finished, Courtney headed back upstairs to print out all the signed deal memos and update the spreadsheet with their new staff. 

Violet was gone, having accompanied Fame to a meeting at Saks, but she’d left something wonderful behind on Courtney’s desk—not one, but two Fashion Week party invitations, with a yellow Post-It note with the word “sorry” written on it. 

Courtney picked up her phone, sending a text to Violet with just the word ‘ _ thanks _ .’ 

***

Willam  _ hated _ his boss.

He hadn’t always. When he first got the job at  _ OK! _ , Detox had been almost like a hero to him. But as the months wore on, and story after story got tossed or ripped to shreds or cut down to a two-line caption for some stupid photo collage, the resentment had built up to the point where he felt physical anger every time he saw Detox, or his stupid face, or his hideous yellow hair. 

It just wasn’t  _ fair _ . Willam knew that he was a more talented reporter, and a smarter person, than anyone else on staff. But in the meeting today, Rhea’s idiotic idea about a spread on celebrity foodstagrams had gotten praise, whereas he’d gotten chewed out, treated like garbage, all for pursuing a story that Detox failed to understand. Or worse, was actively trying to cover up.

“Hey bro. You alright?” Rhea asked, poking her head in the door. 

“No. And fuck off,” Willam spat, turning to his computer. 

“Ooh, someone’s maaad…” Rhea didn’t take the hint at all, slipping into the office and shutting the door behind her. 

“I mean it, Rhea, get the fuck out of here.” 

“Awww, it’s okay. I can handle your wittle tantrum, baby,” she said mockingly. “You need a snacky? Juice box? A wittle baby nappy?” 

She reached forward to tousle his hair, and he pushed her away, eyes blazing with anger. 

“This is bullshit and you know it!” he exclaimed. 

“Bro, it’s not that big of a deal. Just drop it and find a different story to work on.” Rhea yawned, examining her nails. 

“But I’m finally getting somewhere!” 

“Are you? Because you said you’d hit a dead end with that sexy lesbian-”

“Sure. Pearl was a dead end. But-” 

“Tragic,” Rhea clucked. “I could have made magic with her…” She punctuated her statement with an extremely lewd tongue gesture. 

“Gross. And fine, yes, she didn’t give me anything, but-” 

“ _ And _ Detox literally told you 5 times that there’s no story there.” 

“Exactly, Rhea! So what’s he trying to cover up? He obviously didn’t like that I was getting too close to something big. You know he’s friends with her.”

“Sure...but even if you’re right, then what?” Rhea said. “Say you find some crazy dirt, you really think he’ll publish it?” 

“I think that if I find some crazy dirt, Detox fucking Sanderson won’t matter. I’ll be able to sell the story  _ anywhere _ .” 

Rhea chuckled, shaking her head. 

“Alright, but you haven’t found anything yet. So what’s your next move, champ? Because so far you’ve got nothing.”

“I got a new mark…” He pulled up a folder of photos on his computer. “Look.” 

Rhea looked, head tilted, a puzzled expression on her face. 

“These are just pictures of Fame. What am I looking at? You have lost it, bro” 

“Look closer. See the chick who’s behind her in every photo?” Willam zoomed in on a striking but clearly camera-shy brunette. 

“Okay...her assistant? And?” 

“Exactly. And assistants know all their boss’s dirt. But it’s not her I’m after.” Willam clicked through a few more photos, finally finding the one he was looking for. “Bingo.” 

In this picture, the brunette was nowhere to be found, but an adorable, bewildered looking blonde was standing behind Fame in a pretty little mint green dress, bogged down with bags. 

“A different assistant. Hashtag who cares?” 

“A  _ new _ assistant, Rhea. And new means vulnerable. Trust me...that girl? Is my ticket to aaalllll the dirt.”

***

Pearl opened the door to Laganja’s office, her hands filled with boxes upon boxes of invitations to Fashion Week shows and parties.

Fashion Week was a beast, Fashion Month was a monster. Fame was traveling to London as soon as New York was over, Milan and then Paris following, the prep work to get all of that ready always a struggle. Her assistants bore the brunt of it, Fame’s expensive taste and particular likes and dislikes not changing just because she was on another continent.

Pearl however, had a job to do too. As boss in the social media department, it was Pearl’s job to decide which shows, parties and events would be worth covering for their social media, and what different employees of Galactica should show up to, to best feature and nourish their brand in all four cities.

“Ready to crunch down?”

“I was born ready, mama.”

***

“I have Fame for Raja,” Violet said into the phone, her finger was on the button, ready to patch the call through. 

_ “Oh, sorry. Raja’s in the conference room!”  _ Ivy was always so cheerful, and for the hundredth time Violet wondered how she did it _. “She’s working on the model castings. Should I interrupt?” _

Violet bit her lip. Fame hated when she was bogged down by unimportant details, but she hated it even more when decisions were made without her.

“Hang on.” Violet clicked back over to Fame. “Raja is working on model casting in the conference room. Should I interrupt?”

_ “Where is my fruit salad?”  _ __

“On it’s way Miss.” Violet glanced at Courtney’s empty seat, checking her watch. She’d never understand how Courtney could be so slow at everything she did.

_ “Well hurry up.” _ Fame hung up, and the line went dead. Violet quickly pressed back to her call with Ivy, wondering to herself if she should text Courtney to speed it along with the food. Not that it would do any good. The last time she sent that message, she got a glib response along the lines of  _ ‘I’ll tell them to chop faster. _ ’

“No need to interru-”

“Violet.” The door to the office opened, and Fame sailed out, snapping her fingers. “Come.”

Violet hung up right away, knowing that Ivy would understand as she grabbed her notebook and phone. By the time she caught up, Miss Fame was already halfway to the conference room.

Shit. She really should have predicted this. 

Fame wanted to be involved, no decision too small if it’s subject caught her attention.

Violet tried to text Courtney, a quick shoe emoji to Ivy telling her they were on their way, as she hurried along, making sure the clack of her heels matched Fame’s perfectly so her boss wouldn’t get annoyed at the dual sounds. 

As they walked past the glass wall in the conference room, Violet glanced inside. 

Raja was sitting at the table. She was wearing a purple silk shirt, heavy gold decorating her ears, fingers and neck, her hair collected in a high ponytail. Trixie was there too, his sweatshirt of the day a bubblegum pink number. 

The table was filled with black portfolio folders, and Violet recognized about fifty model cards that were spread out amongst the polaroids of their finished looks. 

Violet was just about to get in front of Fame, so she could hold the conference room door open, when she felt her stomach drop.

Right there, at the opposite end of the table, was Sutan.

He was stunning in burgundy, his entire attention focused on his sister as he was talking to her, Raja laughing at something he said. 

Sutan hadn’t spotted her yet, but Violet wanted to cry. There was no way she could hide, nowhere to escape to, the other without a doubt recognizing her the minute she stepped inside, and then it’d all be over.

Violet could feel her throat close up, panic clawing at her chest.

“Miss-”

Fame turned to look at her, Violet not even recognizing that she was the one who had called for her boss’s attention.

“I-” Violet was blank. Completely blank.

“I don’t have all day, Violet.”

“I’m going to go get your food.”

“Fine.” 

Violet had no idea where it had come from, but Fame turned away from her, clearly dismissing her and blessedly leaving her outside of the conference room.

“Tantan! Were you really going to come by without saying hi-”

The door to the conference room closed, cutting the sound of Fame’s voice off, and Violet did the only thing she could think of.

She ran.

Slamming the door to the office closed helped a little, but her heart was still in her throat. She checked her hair and makeup in her black computer screen, yanking off her ID card and smoothing down her dress over and over again as she walked in a small circle, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Violet?” 

Courtney came in through the door, the blonde holding the promised fruit salad in her hand, and for the first time, Violet felt relief course through her body at the sight of her.

“Are you okay?” Courtney asked.

Violet was utterly screwed, but maybe, just maybe, she would be able to pull off the impossible.

All she needed was for Courtney to follow her instructions perfectly. 

“Fame is in the conference room for a meeting.”

“So why aren’t you there? Is everything alright?” Courtney’s brow furrowed. 

It was a fair question, but it was also a fair question Violet wasn’t going to answer. 

“I need you to bring her the food, and take notes.” 

“What? Are you sick?”

Violet had started to trust Courtney more and more, but she still hadn’t allowed her to even attempt to take down Fame’s rapid fire orders during meetings, forgetting something at one of those a fatal mistake.

“Go. Now.  _ Please. _ ”

Courtney looked at her like she was insane, but she quickly plated the fruit, grabbed a roll of silverware, her notebook and phone, and hurried to the conference room.

***

Courtney entered the conference room, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible as she set Fame’s bowl of fruit down in front of her, along with the wrapped silverware. She opened her notebook, trying to find a place to stand where she wouldn’t be in the way. 

Should she sit? She’d never been present in this room for a meeting where she had nothing to do but listen. It seemed inappropriate somehow to sit down beside Fame at the table, but also weird to be standing behind her, especially since the table was mostly empty.

Courtney vaguely remembered seeing assistants stand along the wall, so she did just that.

Everyone around the table was talking animatedly, Raja and Fame so firm in their opinions it almost sounded like they were fighting, but Courtney couldn’t focus on them or what they were saying.

All she could think about was Violet.

Courtney had never seen her coworker so visibly flustered. 

Eyes wild, cheeks red, voice cracking.

She had looked like she was in genuine distress, and something told her that she should just forget about this impromptu meeting and go back to check on Violet. 

After all, Fame could easily call her back if she needed something, right? 

On the other hand, Violet had ordered her in no uncertain terms to stay with Fame, and there was a chance that whatever was upsetting her would be worse if she had the added stress of being worried about her boss. So Courtney supposed that she should just stay and do what she was told. She tried to follow the conversation about models, taking what notes she could manage. The good news was, nobody seemed to notice or care that she was there, so she assumed that her position near the door, back pressed against the wall, had been the right move. 

“You’re blind.”

“It’s an opinion.”

“Trixie, not now darling. Why are all of these- Sutan where is that model I like?”

“I’m going to need a bit more information to go on if you want my help.”

“Who was that model from that latest Vogue?” Fame asked, waving her hand in the air. “The one on my desk with the red?” When her boss tossed a questioning look over her shoulder, Courtney realized that this question must be directed at her.

““I-I’m not sure, Miss?” Was this the sort of thing Violet got asked and was expected to answer? “Would you like me to go get-” 

“Ugh,” Fame let out an annoyed scoff, and seemed to only now realize that Courtney was the one who was there. “Where’s Violet?” 

“She’s taking care of something in the office,” Courtney said quickly, not really lying through her teeth, though the thing Violet was taking care of most of all was that she looked like she had seen a ghost.

“Go tell her that if she enjoys her job,” Fame said slowly, “she’ll get back here immediately.” 

Courtney hesitated for a split second before Fame snapped her fingers, adding, “Now!” 

“Yes, Miss!” Courtney said, rushing from the room. 

***

Violet was trying desperately to stay calm. She was pacing the office, her brain working in overdrive, her fingers tugging at her skirt.

Violet was no stranger to digging her own grave, but this was an especially deep one, and she wasn’t sure if she could get out. 

Under normal circumstances, Violet would run away. She’d burn the bridge, never look back, and walk away from her mistake, but she didn’t want to walk away from Sutan.

She hadn’t lied to him, not exactly, but she still wanted to cry.

Sutan was everything she could ask for, not because he earned more money a month than Violet would in a year, even as a designer, not because of his connections and how he seemed to know everyone who was anything.

No. So far, Sutan had been perfect because of how he acted. He was attentive and kind, respecting Violet’s boundaries without any kind of fight. It felt like he was interested in what she was saying, his eyes lighting up in delight when she shared her opinion. 

Violet had no idea why he seemed to like her so much, why he chose to spend time with her and he could have anyone he pointed at, pretty girl after pretty girl probably standing in line to hang on his arm, but somehow, he had chosen her.

There was no way, however, no way at all, that he’d want to continue that when he found out who she really was.

When he saw that she was nothing more than an assistant, who couldn’t even do her job right. 

“Um…” 

Violet turned around to see Courtney in the doorway. 

“I’m really sorry, Violet, but Miss Fame asked for you.”

That was it then. Violet was dead. Her plan had failed, and she had to face the music. She gathered her things, nausea rumbling in her stomach.

“I can tell her you’re sick.”

Violet looked over her shoulder at Courtney who was still standing by the door, a lock of blonde hair twisted around her finger, her lip between her teeth. 

“Whatever you want,” she added. 

Courtney was a ridiculously good friend, and Violet snorted, the harsh sound betraying how utterly fucked she felt. 

“She asked something about a model in the Vogue on her desk, so I can just go get-”

“Jourdan Dunn?” Violet had no idea why Courtney didn’t know that, Fame actually mentioning the model by name one day when Violet had brought her a coffee. 

“Great!” Courtney scribbled the name down. “If you need to go, like to the doctor or something, you should go. I’ll message you if anything comes up, or leave you alone completely if that’s what you need, just tell me-”

Violet was pretty sure Courtney had no idea what she had just offered, the blonde in no way ready to run the office on her own. 

“No.”

Violet could feel green eyes on her, Courtney watching her every move.

“I’ll go.”

Violet took a deep breath, grabbed her things from the desk and said a slight prayer before she made her way to the conference room, already mourning her lost relationship with Sutan as she closed the door behind her.

***

Sutan was drumming his fingers against the table, a half finished bottle of pellegrino in front of him. He had perked up immediately when Fame had said Violet’s name, the anonymous blonde disappearing to go get her. 

He had texted Violet as soon as he had gotten the email from Raja that she wanted him at Galactica, and that she wanted him there now, but as always, she hadn’t seen his message yet.

“I like your new bag, Trixie-” Sutan smiled as he looked at Trixie who had gotten up to stretch, the man looking out the window. Trixie had a fanny pack hanging off of his hip, the cut a lot like what Sutan had seen the European male models run around with over their shoulders, but while theirs was black, Trixie’s was a hot pink and completely covered in jewels. 

“Very very stylish.” 

“Katya made it for me.”

Sutan wondered if he was supposed to know who Katya was, but Trixie seemed to love it, and fashion was fun at it’s core, or so he had been told. 

Sutan was just about to get up himself for a stretch when Violet opened the door and stepped inside, a notebook in hand, her back completely straight.

She was just as pretty as always, an art printed poplin dress in white and light blue paired with a set of elegant heels, her black hair falling down her shoulders, a golden hair clip holding it in place. 

He knew that Violet was a designer, but he was pleasantly surprised, and even a little proud, that she was apparently high enough on the food chain to be needed for a meeting like this. It was impressive, only 23, and already invaluable to senior management. 

“Hello-“

“Glad you could finally grace us with your presence, Miss Chachki,” Fame drawled, looking bored and kind of impatient. “I need the name of the girl from Vogue, the one with the red-”

“Jourdan Dunn, Miss?”

“Yes!” Fame snapped her fingers. “Jourdan Dunn.”

“You want Jourdan? Now?” Sutan snorted. The model had been booked for months, and while he was very good at his job, he couldn’t make magic happen just because one of his friends changed her mind. “And would you like unicorns at your show as well-”

He was cut off as Raja kicked him under the table, his twin shooting him a serious look that told him to watch his mouth.

“You want someone like Jourdan.” Sutan put it down on the piece of paper in front of him. “Noted.”

“It suits our more tropical, garden-y type of theme for the collection,” Raja picked up a few girls, moving them over and into the approved pile. “Green does look wonderful on darker skin tones.”

Trixie, Fame and Raja chatted back and forth for a bit, Sutan at first caught up in their conversation, but as they started to discuss hairstyles, he zoned out. What they actually did with the models once they were booked was not his business, and while hair could be uncomfortable to endure, it was rarely a violation.

His attention wandered, his gaze settling on something much more interesting than clip on bangs.

Violet was standing against the wall, the woman writing away, noting down everything that was being said.

Sutan tried to catch her eye, tried to get Violet’s attention, but it almost felt like she was avoiding him completely, her gaze glued to her notes. 

“Violet?”

Sutan was pulled out of his thoughts as Fame called Violet’s name. 

“We need a round of coffees.”

Sutan’s brow furrowed, confused. Why would Miss Fame be sending a lead designer for coffees?

He looked around the room, only now realizing that the apparently useless blonde from earlier wasn’t in attendance anymore. 

“Yes, Miss,” Violet said, voice so soft it was almost a whisper, before speaking up a bit more clearly. “What can I get for you all?” 

“Hmm, mint tea would be great,” Raja said. 

“Can I get an iced mocha with extra whip?” Trixie asked. Violet nodded, writing it down. “Thanks, you’re an angel.”

Violet finally looked Sutan in the eye for the first time all day. 

“Anything for you… Sir?” 

_ Sir?  _ Violet had never called him sir, her brown eyes looking at him for the first time, and that was when it clicked. Fame wasn’t sending a designer out for coffees. 

“Umh…” Sutan sat up in his chair, the whole situation absolutely bizarre. “No thanks.” 

Violet nodded, the tears clear in her eyes as she turned towards the door, walking slowly and precisely. To anyone who didn’t know her, she seemed perfectly calm, but Sutan knew better. 

“Please, Violet, continue to move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me,” Fame said drily, before turning her attention back to the model cards, pointing. “I like her…” 

Sutan sat in his chair, a little dumbfounded. Violet was Fame’s assistant? Why hadn’t she told him that before? And why was she so upset? Nothing made sense at the moment. 

“Hello? Tan?” Fame snapped her fingers, trying to get his attention. 

“Yes?” 

“Good lord, what is wrong with everyone today?” Fame tapped on one of the cards. “I want her. Trixie, don’t you think she’d be perfect for the resort look?” 

“Her chest is a little flat.”

“But look at that waist! Those eyes! Sew some chicken cutlets into the top and she’ll be fine.” 

“I can do that.” Trixie made a note. 

“Put her on hold, Sutan,” Fame said, handing him the modeling card.

“Are you okay?” Raja asked, her head tilted in concern as she surveyed her brother up and down. 

“Yes.” [Actually. No.] Sutan swallowed, his throat feeling as dry as sandpaper. [I need a-] “I need a minute to...excuse me.” 

He rose from his chair, and Fame threw up her hands in exasperation. 

“Is Mercury in retrograde?”

***

Courtney jumped up from her desk when Violet re-entered. She’d busied herself with updating the schedule and ordering office supplies, but found it impossible to concentrate when she was this worried. Something was really wrong with Violet, and even though Courtney didn’t know what, she felt awful just sitting here doing nothing. 

“Violet!” Courtney rushed towards her. “Please tell me what’s wrong, are you-”

“I’m fine.” Violet pushed her way past her, tears falling from her eyes as she grabbed her jacket and her sunglasses, covering herself up so quickly Courtney almost doubted that she had even seen tears fall from Violet’s eyes before she grabbed for her keycard as well.

Courtney had never seen Violet like this before, had never seen her express any emotion beyond calm professionalism or indignant anger, so Violet’s tears shook her to the very core. She also seemed to be having trouble breathing, her skin red and blotchy. 

“Please Violet, tell me what’s going on,” Courtney begged. 

“Everything is fucked, that’s what’s wrong,” Violet hissed, the tinge of panic back in her voice. “I couldn’t even look at him! Couldn't even-” 

“Couldn’t look at who?” Courtney racked her brain. She highly doubted that Trixie could be responsible for this reaction. The jovial head of design was everyone’s best friend, and she’d seen with her own eyes how much he respected Violet. So she must be talking about that other man, the tall one. Courtney’s eyes narrowed. 

*

_ “Couldn’t look at who?” _

“Fuck!” Violet swore as she couldn’t get her stupid jacket to close properly. Her fingers felt numb, clumsy, useless, useless just like her, her mind spiraling, her world zoomed in on the button she couldn’t even manage to close, her mother's voice ringing in her ears, the sharp tone one she hadn't heard in months.

“Violet?”

Her mother would never call her Violet, the word said with a gentle question she knew Courtney could never manage. 

Violet turned around, and right there, right in front of her, was Sutan.

*

Courtney twirled to the man who was standing in the door, fury welling up in her chest. 

How  _ dare  _ he show up here in the office? She didn’t know what he'd done to Violet, but she could very well use her imagination. 

She stepped between them, arms crossed, asking coldly, “Can I help you?” 

“Yes,” the man said, his voice annoyingly calm. “You can step away for a couple of minutes so that I can talk to Violet.” 

“No, I’m sorry, that’s not going to be possible.” Courtney squared her shoulders, showing him she meant business. 

The man let out a chuckle of disbelief before giving her a patient, charming smile. 

“Listen, dear-” 

“My name is not  _ dear _ !” Courtney said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

He took a deep breath before trying a different tactic. 

“Well, dear, I don’t know your name, but if you kindly fuck off for 5 minutes, then I’ll happily name my first born child after you.” 

Courtney’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. She didn’t care, at the moment, if she got fired. She was not going to let this man intimidate her, or mess with Violet any more than he already had. 

“I think  _ you’re _ the one who needs to fuck off,  _ sir _ . So back away right now or I’ll have to call securi-” 

“Courtney.”

Courtney felt a hand on her arm, Violet’s slender fingers on her.

“Can you go get the coffees?” Violet had pushed her sunglasses into her hair, her dark eyes liquid with tears she barely managed to hold back. “Please.”

“Are you sure?” Courtney asked softly. She really didn’t want to leave Violet alone with this horrible man, but she also didn’t want to say no to her, not in this vulnerable state. 

“Yes.” Violet pressed a sheet of paper with the coffee order into her hand. “And Miss Fame’s usual.”

“Okay. But...text me if you need anything.” Courtney picked up her phone and notepad, casting an extra dirty look at that asshole as she left the office. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Violet confronted her worst fear when Sutan showed up at Galactica and learned the truth about her job. 
> 
> This Chapter: Sutan has a heart to hearts with both Violet and his twin sister. Courtney makes a new friend, and Pearl makes herself useful as everyone finishes the Fashion Week preparations.

“So.” The door closed behind them, “This isn’t how I imagined the day going.” 

Violet tried to keep her tears back, her nails digging into her palm.

“When Raj asked me to come by, I had hoped for lunch,” Sutan sat down on the edge of Courtney’s desk, everything about him too grand, too good for her little assistants office, “maybe even dinner even though you told me you’re busy.”

None of this made any sense. 

“A kiss or two if the night really took off.”

Sutan wasn’t mad, hadn’t yelled at her, hadn’t called her stupid or wothless or torn her apart for essentially lying to him.

“Please don’t do this.”

“Do what, lovely eyes?”

The nickname hit her like a slap in the face, Sutan completely calm.

“Pretend like we’re okay.”

“Are we not?” Sutan crossed his arms, his suit jacket pulling at the elbows, and Violet wanted to scold him for messing with the fabric, sorrow welling up in her that she’d never be allowed to again. “And why is that?”

“I lied to you.” Violet wished she was dead. “I’m not a designer, not yet, but I-”

“Violet. I know I’m not the most observant man in the universe-” Sutan huffed, like he had just told a joke, “but maybe I should have asked about your job, instead of just assuming that you were a designer.”

“That’s still a lie-”

“Is it? Did you lie? Or did you just not say anything?” 

“What’s the difference?” Violet couldn’t understand him, what Sutan was saying still not making any sense.

“A whole lot?” Sutan stood up, forcing her to tilt her neck to look at him. “Violet-“ Sutan took a step forward, “when people usually lie to me, it’s a lot more serious than this.” 

Violet hadn’t looked into Sutan’s past, hadn’t googled him or gone through his social media, the idea that she even could like a gross violation, but his words made a cold shiver run down her back.

“You’re climbing the corporate ladder? So is everyone else in this city.” Sutan shrugged. “So what if you’re an assistant? If you can keep Fame in check, you must be pretty remarkable.” 

“I didn’t- I thought you’d be ashamed, that you wouldn’t want to see me anymore-” Violet twisted a handful of her jacket, the zipper digging into her palm.

“You’re weird, Violet.” 

Violet froze. “Wha-?” 

Sutan had just insulted her, weird never a good thing to be, but somehow, somehow it didn’t sound bad coming from him.

“You’re really, really weird, and I like that about you.” Sutan smiled, surprising Violet once again as he continued speaking, and continued praising her.

“I like how you want to go to the museum, instead of whatever spot that’s in on Instagram. I like how smart you are, how you carry yourself.”

Violet felt hot all over, her interest in the exhibition not something she had even consider as remarkable. 

“I enjoy your company, actually, I enjoy it immensely.” Sutan smirked, a glint in his eyes. 

“If I said no to all of that, all of this, just because you’re an assistant, which is a perfectly respectable fucking job, I wouldn’t deserve you.”

Violet had no idea how she had found Sutan, had no idea how she had been blessed enough for a man like him to walk into her life, but as she closed the distance between them, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, she was so happy she had.

***

[I know who you liiiike], Raja laughed, the words sung by her in fluent Indonesian as she and Sutan walked down the hall of Galactica on their way to Raja’s office.

Sutan had gone back to finish the meeting, Violet actually hugging the strange little blonde and whispering something in her ear when she had returned with the coffees.

[Given the circumstances, I don’t think that’s very impressive.]

It had been incredibly hard to concentrate, Violet an ever present presence in the corner, and while Sutan tried not to pay too much attention to her, the gigantic smug smirk on his sister’s face had told him she had seen right through him.

[Give me a moment to enjoy the fact that Violet Chachki has your attention,] Raja smirked, the teasing tone still in her voice as she sat down on the couch in her inner office, toeing off her shoes Sutan immediately taking the seat right beside her, unbuttoning his jacket.

[I like her for you,] Raja twirled a bit of her hair, a lazy drawl in her voice as she leaned back, [she’s competent.]

[Thanks?] Sutan smiled. Competent from Raja was a high praise, his sister hating the majority of the population. 

Violet was competent, very competent, watching her work actually pretty sexy, the woman catching every question or ridiculous demand Fame had thrown her way, though Sutan had seen bosses who were a lot worse than his friend.

[Do you want a drink?] Raja pointed towards the drink station in the corner of her office.

[In the middle of the day?] Sutan squeezed Raja’s knee, his sisters assistant out to get their lunch, the look in her eyes when he had returned instantly telling Sutan that he was expected to spill his guts.

[Don’t give me attitude, young man.]

[You’re only 7 minutes older than me.] Sutan got up and walked over to the little bar. Raja had probably asked for wine from the minifridge she also had installed in her office, but he knew his sister and knew that when she smelled gossip, she was like a shark after blood, and Sutan wasn’t facing any of that without hard liquor in his blood. 

[7 very important minutes.]

Sutan poured two glasses, topping his own off very generously before he made his way back to his sister.

[So,] Raja smirked, taking her glass as she sat up on the couch. [I assume Violet is the one you’ve been texting?]

[Maybe.]

[No!] Raja hit him, her flat palm connecting with his upper arm.

[Hey-]

[When did this become a thing?!] Raja almost giggled, his sister humming with excitement as she practically crawled into his personal space, her legs swung over his lap. [I want every single detail!]

Sutan guessed that his sister's enthusiasm made sense. It had been a depressingly long time since he had found anyone anywhere near as interesting as he had found Violet.

[It wasn’t exactly...planned…] Sutan touched Raja’s calf, kneading the used muscles he could feel, Raja always insisting on sky high heels. [I met her at the Fashion Fund.]

[What? Seriously?] Raja’s eyes widened. [The one year I don’t go?!]

Sutan chuckled. Raja had had an invite, but she had stayed home with Raven, all of the upcoming work during Fashion Week and their new engagement meaning that Raja had opted for a night in instead, regret now radiating from his sister.

[I saw her at the bar, and…]

Sutan paused. He and Raja shared everything. It was who they were, two parts of one whole, each other's soulmates, but for some reason, it didn’t feel right to tell Raja that Violet had been crying.

Violet had told him that she wasn’t a crier, that it wasn’t something she usually did, and even though Sutan had seen it twice now, those words still rang true to him.

There was something about Violet, her poise and her pride, how she carried herself, that told him she was immensely private, so for once, he kept his mouth shut, skipping the small but crucial piece of information as he continued his story.

[We started talking and before I knew it she just… She captivated me. She’s stayed over at my apartment-]

[No!] Raja’s jaw dropped, and she picked up one of her pillows, hitting Sutan who laughed.

[Raj!] Sutan held a hand in front of his face, shielding it from his sister’s attack.

[I told you to get new furniture! I told you to!]

It was true that Raja had been on his dick about him getting new furniture for years now, but Sutan hadn’t been able to find the motivation. He guessed it was sort of embarrassing that his apartment hadn’t changed at all since his sister moved out, but what did it matter?

He had lived with Raja for most of his life - they had been roomies through what little they did of college, had shared a one bedroom apartment when Raja had gotten discovered and they’d moved from L.A to New York, the two of them slowly but painfully upgrading together until they had finally been able to buy their own place, both of their names on the contract.

It wasn’t until Raja had fallen in love with Raven, and all three of them had lived together over a year in the apartment Sutan had now, that Raja had moved out.

She hadn’t moved far though, his sister and Raven simply purchasing the exact same apartment two floors up. 

[Violet doesn’t seem to mind.]

“That’s because you got her dickmatised.” Raja sighed, falling back on the couch.

[Please don’t use that word.] Sutan smiled, rolling his eyes at her slang. [It’s not like that.]

[No?] Raja’s eyes narrowed. [What’s it like then?]

Sutan hit a snort. It was so typical of his sister to be jealous of anyone who took even the smallest part of him, nevermind the fact that Raja herself was engaged to be married. 

[Time will tell Raj. Time will tell.]

***

Violet was running, her feet hitting the belt tracker over and over again. It was early morning, the gym practically empty except for the other regulars, everyone giving each other space for whatever they needed done.

She had a near endless day in front of her at the office, everything closing in, final preparations taking place.

Violet was gasping, but for once she was in control of the lack of air, the exercise pushing her towards that glorious place where her mind was quiet, where nothing existed except the rhythmic move of her body, and where everything else ceased to matter.

***

Courtney entered the cafeteria with a deep sigh. Upstairs, it was pretty much chaos as everyone desperately tried to finish the last few days of prep for Fashion Week. She couldn’t help but be a bit insulted that Violet had sent her down for an early lunch. She knew that the other girl wasn’t just trying to be nice to her, but in fact wanted her out of the way. 

Even though she’d be the first one to admit that she had lots of room for improvement in this job, it still stung. After all, she wasn’t an idiot, and she knew that she could be helpful if given the chance. But maybe it was better this way, since she was pretty sure that her next mistake would result in Violet murdering her. 

The cafeteria was almost empty, except for all the suits that she wasn’t allowed to socialize with. 

Normally, she would be irritated at being told who she was allowed to talk to, but her few brief interactions with the suits told her that in fact, it was just very good advice to stay away. They reminded Courtney so much of all the worst frat boys that she’d known (and regrettably, dated) back in college. Entitled little shits who thought the world was their playground, interested in nothing but a good time--for themselves. 

Courtney actually hadn’t dated anyone since she’d moved to New York. For the first time in her life, she was enjoying the freedom of being single, unconcerned with boys altogether. It was nice, actually, and when her friends would whine about how hard it was to find decent guys in the city, she found herself shrugging, unbothered by this alleged lack of datable men. 

She purchased some tempeh tacos and her favorite coconut water, pointedly ignoring the suits who eyed her up and down, the bolder ones offering friendly waves. One of them even gave her a little wink as she slid into her seat. (Which, she had to admit, she did enjoy. After all, she was only human, and even though she had no interest in dating them, it was still nice to know she caught their eyes.) 

Ironically, it was just when she was sighing happily over the relief of having no boyfriend to answer to when a boy stopped at the table in front of her, clearing his throat. 

She looked up at him. Definitely not a suit, in his denim jacket and sandy blonde curls falling into his eyes, a neatly trimmed beard covering his face. He grinned charmingly, asking, “Is this seat taken?” 

Courtney paused for a moment. He wasn’t a suit...in fact, the way he was dressed, he looked like he might be a Galactica employee, although she didn’t recognize him. She supposed there was no harm in letting him sit down, though. 

“Yes –I mean no. Go ahead...Sorry.”

“Thank you.” He slid onto the bench, still smiling, and asked, “So, why’s a gorgeous girl like you eating lunch alone?”

“Because I don’t like to get roofied while it’s still daylight outside,” Courtney snarked, shoving a bite of tempeh into her mouth. 

The boy burst out laughing, clearly taken aback by her dark humor, and Courtney hid a bit of a smile. 

“I’m Willam,” he extended a hand over their trays. “No extra i,” he added with a wink.

“Courtney. Nice to meet you.” Courtney grabbed Willam’s hand, giving it a firm shake--he should know right away that she wasn’t some simpering pushover. “Do you work here? Or, for us I mean?”

“No.” Willam shook his head. “I’m a journalist with  _ OK! _ Magazine.” 

“Oh! They’re on our approved list!” Courtney said with a grin, and Willam smiled back. 

“Yeah, I have an interview with your head of social media today.”

“Pearl! I know her!”

“She’s kind of late, and I’m kind of glad.”

“Yeah… Pearl isn’t the best at being anywhere on time…She’s cool, though.”

“Well, if she arrived on time, I wouldn’t have met you.”

Courtney snorted. This kid was certainly laying it on thick, and while he wasn’t the type she normally went for, the attention was nice. And he did have pretty blue eyes, framed by the longest lashes that Courtney had ever seen on a boy. 

“Well...thanks, Willam.”

“So, Courtney. What do you do?”

“I’m an assistant in Miss Fame’s office.” 

“Whoa! That’s cool. She seems like a really, uh, interesting person.” 

“Yeah. She’s...um…”

“...eccentric?” Willam asked with a chuckle. “Rich people are always a bit weird.” 

It wasn’t until that moment that Courtney realized how much she’d been dying to vent to someone about her job. Adore was off limits for obvious reasons, and she was even nervous to say anything to their mutual friends for fear that someone would accidentally tell Adore if she complained about Fame too much. But this guy didn’t know Fame, or have any personal relationships with the people who were driving her crazy. So Courtney took a deep breath and started talking, telling him all about her job, not even once thinking about the confidentiality agreement she had signed on her first day.

***

“I look like an egg.”

Trixie turned in the mirror, watching his reflection. 

“No you don’t.” Katya was sitting in a pile of clothes, a courier coming by with several bags.

Trixie was dressed in a black long sleeved shirt, Fame unrelenting in her demands for his fashion week wardrobe. There would be cameras backstage at their show, Raja running most of it, but Trixie still had to be there, and while Fame didn’t normally care about his clothes at work, Trixie knew she would personally kill him if any photos of him in an aloha shirt showed up in Vogue.

“I do.” Trixie ran a hand over his head, his hair trimmed to it’s very minimum to disguise his bald spots.

“Okay, so maybe you do look a bit like an egg.” Katya smiled. Her blonde hair was crimped and pulled up in a scrunchie, and Trixie desperately wished he could match her fun and colorful dress.

“Try this one.” Katya held up a forest green t-shirt. “I think there might be a hat somewhere that matches.”

***

“And so the entire week ends with you in the front row at Oscar De La Renta and drinks at the Chester at the Gansevoort Hotel.”

Fame nodded, looking at Pearl with a small smile on her face. The two of them were on the sofa in Fame’s office, the leftovers of their dinner still sitting on the coffee table. Violet was at Bryant Park, having a production meeting for next week’s shows, and Fame had suggested that she take Courtney along to learn the ropes, effectively getting them both out of the office. “Well done. Does the timetable hold?”

“Violet made it herself, so I’m betting on it.”

Fame nodded once again; there was a slight pounding in her temple as a headache tried to bloom. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so anxious for so long, her mind working in overdrive every time she wasn’t specifically focused on keeping it in check.

“Miss.”

Fame looked at Pearl, a smile growing on her face.

“Yes, Pearl?”

Pearl said nothing else, just gazed at her with that cocky half-smile, the one that Fame could never resist, and Fame felt her knees weaken along with her resolve. 

It was the same look that she'd given her three years ago, the day they first met. Alyssa had hired Pearl to help with their social media and branding presence, an edgy, rebellious former model who had a reputation for always being a step ahead of the trends. Galactica had always been a prestigious label, but in an industry obsessed with youth and innovation and the next big thing, they all had a fear of being branded stodgy or worse, passé. 

Pearl was a breath of fresh air - for the company and for Fame, who’d found to her dismay that she’d lost some of the creative passion that drove her to create in the first place. 

Fingers sliding teasingly up her thighs brought Fame back to the present. She’d have been lying if she claimed that this turn of events was a surprise, that it wasn’t the thing she’d been hoping for when she planned a Friday evening meeting with Pearl and got rid of the staff. 

“Pearl…” Fame’s breath hitched as Pearl’s hand disappeared under her skirt. 

“Yes, Miss?” Pearl’s face was temptingly close, and Fame’s lips parted in anticipation along with her thighs. 

She pressed a hand to Pearl’s soft cheek, and said, “Don’t rush.” 

A lazy smile spread across Pearl’s face, that victorious glimmer in her eyes. 

“Yes, Miss.” 

A small whimper escaped Fame’s lips as Pearl toyed with the edge of her panties, warm breath on her neck. Her thighs spread more, making her skirt ride up. 

Pearl moved down to her knees, settling between Fame’s legs. She peeled off her already wet, sticky panties, sliding them down her legs. But the torture was far from over. Fame’s head fell back, losing herself in the simple indulgence of Pearl’s generous ministrations. 

She started out slow, teasing, alternating between soft wet kisses and sharp bites, up and down her thighs. Fame sighed and shivered with anticipation, the warm feeling in her belly spreading, especially when Pearl tugged open the little buttons on her blouse, reaching inside to toy with her achingly hard nipples. She pulled down one of the delicate lace cups, pinching Fame’s nipple between her thumb and forefinger, sending sparks straight to her core. 

By the time her hot mouth finally brushed against Fame’s pussy, she was dripping wet and trembling, hands balled into white-knuckled fists as she arched up into every lick. Pearl took her sweet time, swirling her tongue in lazy, indulgent circles. Smiling against her as Fame’s thighs pressed into her ears. 

Fame was never very vocal during sex, prefering instead to let her body give more subtle clues as to what she liked. And Pearl, bless her, was an absolute virtuoso at reading every shift, every intake of breath. Playing her until every cell was singing, racked with the most delicious agony. 

Her hands found their way into Pearl’s tousled hair, grabbing hold of the thick blond locks to regain some semblance of control. Though at this point, with Pearl’s tongue buried deep inside her, thumb grazing her clit, she was a lost cause. Pearl was running the show; she was simply along for the ride, breathlessly denying herself as long as she possibly could, holding out until the last possible second. 

Then, with one decisive swipe of Pearl’s thumb against her clit, she was gone. Every muscle tensed, her back arched, and the relief came flooding over her as she came. But Pearl never let her off easy, coaxing soft moans from her, not back down until she was squirming in pain. And then, there was only a brief pause, less than a second for Fame to catch her breath, until Pearl pushed two fingers inside her. 

Fame strained against Pearl’s fingers as the younger woman fucked her, deep and rough, first matching the rhythm of Fame’s rocking hips and then speeding up, pushing her faster and faster until her quiet moans turned to pitiful whimpers and she clawed at Pearl’s forearm, begging for a reprieve. 

Which is when Pearl—that infuriating, beautiful monster— _ laughed _ . Fame wanted to slap the smug right off her face, but of course couldn’t, since she was too busy gasping for air. Finally, she eased her fingers out, immediately dipping her head back down to gently lick Fame clean, tongue soft and gentle. 

Fame’s fingers loosened their grip on her hair, body turning slack and pliant. When she lifted her head to proudly assess her work, Fame couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. Her entire face was glistening wet, makeup an absolutely travesty. Fame reached out to touch her cheek. 

“Thank you, pet.”

“I aim to please, Miss.”

***

_ @WillamB: Hey cutie. ;) _

_ @CourtneyActJenek: Hi!  _

_ @WillamB: Can I confess something?  _

_ @CourtneyActJenek: Ok? _

_ @WillamB: I really hate Instagram. I only made this account to talk to you.  _

_ @CourtneyActJenek: Lol. I’m on Facebook too.  _

_ @WillamB: Ugh, Facebook is even WORSE.  _

_ @CourtneyActJenek: Haha  _

_ @WillamB: But your adorable face makes social media worth it.  _

_ @CourtneyActJenek: Thanks, I think. Lol _

_ @WillamB: When am I gonna see you again?  _

_ @CourtneyActJenek: Definitely not this week. It’s Fashion Week and I’m so stressed out. D: _

_ @WillamB: Aww, bummer.  _

_ @CourtneyActJenek: Sorry _

_ @WillamB: That’s okay, I totally get it. Work’s gotta come first, right?  _

_ @CourtneyActJenek: Something like that ;P _

_ @WillamB: Well, no worries. I’ll hit you up after things settle down a bit.  _

***

Violet took a step back, admiring her work, her steamer in hand. She had spent the afternoon preparing her outfits for the week ahead, everything preselected right down to her underwear and jewelry.

Violet had spent most of Friday trying to imprint in Courtney’s mind how important it was that they looked presentable for the upcoming week, but as always, the blonde had refused to understand anything, Courtney somehow not grasping that pastels and rainbows weren’t appropriate.

There was a real risk that her and Courtney would be caught on photos, the fashion week journalists all over everyone entering and exiting the high profile shows, and as one of America’s most influential fashion designers, Fame was on every guest list that mattered.

Violet usually did everything she could to avoid getting photographed, the idea of a camera turned on her making her nauseous, everything in her screaming to get away, but it was part of her job, and something that had to be done. 

In the end, Violet had given up and sent Courtney down to Ivy, the two of them jiving on a level Violet couldn’t replicate, no matter how much she tried to relate to Courtney, to make her understand that they were supposed to be on the same team. 

Violet hoped that Ivy had succeeded in imprinting the information, the idea of dealing with and cover up a typical Courtney related fuck up really not something she had the emotional energy for during the grueling and near endless Fashion Week work days.

***

“Court, are you sure this is what you want?”

“Of course it is!”

“Okay, okay!” Adore laughed. The girls were sitting on the bath mat in her small bathroom, an abandoned pizza box on the toilet seat. 

Courtney had called Adore earlier that day since she had been unable to sleep the night before. Whenever she drifted off, she apparently had a nightmare about the upcoming week. The first fashion show started tomorrow and though she claimed to be excited, Adore could tell that her friend was actually terrified. 

Courtney was the one to suggest this hair dyeing activity. She just needed to do something, anything, to take back control. And Adore was never one to say no to a fresh hair color, even if she was dubious about the intentions behind it. 

“Okay, so!” Adore took a large sip of her beer before she snapped on a pair of rubber gloves. “Do you want Cleo Rose, or Cotton Candy pink?”

“Cotton Candy of course! Duh!” 

Adore grinned, mixing the solution in her well-used plastic bowl. 

“You’re gonna look so fucking badass, girl.” 

Courtney nodded, a drunk giggle leaving her as she smeared vaseline around her hairline, the faint smell of chemicals filling the room. 

“Are you gonna do yours, too?” she asked. 

Adore glanced at herself in the mirror. She hadn’t dyed her own hair for a few months. The green was almost all faded, leaving just the bleached parts behind, along with her dark brown roots. 

“Maybe. What color should I do?” 

“Purple!” 

Adore tilted her head, squinting her eyes to try and picture it. She hadn’t had purple since she was a teenager. It could be pretty cool, especially if she used a dark, royal purple and framed her face with some lighter highlights in the front. 

“Maybe…”

“Yayyy!” Courtney clapped her hands excitedly. “Do it, do it, do it!”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Violet and Sutan bonded, Courtney made a new friend, and the final preparations for Fashion Week occured. 
> 
> This Chapter: Welcome to Fashion Week.

Trixie loved Fashion Week, loved all the inspiration and all of the interesting people, but the long lines, the incredibly skinny models and the general chaos were some of his least favorite things. 

(He also never had high hopes for Europe, but Fame had talked about him potentially skipping Paris, which meant he would at least escape the French.)

“Baby, your car is here!”

“Coming!” Trixie grabbed his phone, wallet and a pair of sunglasses before he left the room he shared with Katya, ready to face the day. It was early morning, but Fame had asked him to swing by her house so she could check his outfit in person before the day started.

Katya was standing by the door, a bright smile on her face as she held out a backpack to him.

“… What’s that?”

“It’s your backpack, silly!” Katya laughed, rolling her eyes. The backpack was a stylish black one, but as soon as Katya opened it, an explosion of color appeared.

“I packed your camera, your powerbank, a few of your business cards and some snacks, just in case you get hungry.”

“You’re like my mom,” Trixie blushed, equally parts ashamed and happy with Katya. “But like… cool.”

“You always know what to say to a girl.” Katya laughed and helped Trixie put the backpack on. “Now go, unless you want to be late!”

“I love you.” Trixie smiled, unable to actually understand how he had managed to get a girl as amazing as Katya.

“I love you too, sugarbutt.”

***

_ SUTAN: Hey lovely eyes, what shows are you catching today? _

_ VIOLET: You’re texting like I won’t be sitting outside waiting for Fame. _

_ VIOLET: She’s doing Vera this afternoon _

_ SUTAN: Do you want to go inside? _

_ VIOLET: Can you do that? _

_ SUTAN: I’ve been known to work magic ;) _

_ VIOLET: Don’t tempt me. I have work. _

_ SUTAN: It’s Fashion Week baby, let loose and have fun!  _

_ VIOLET: I’ll take it into consideration. _

_ SUTAN: Call me if you figure something out. I’m sure the models can handle themselves ;) _

_ VIOLET: High hopes _

_ SUTAN: You being snarky is a lot less fun when I can’t kiss you _

***

Pearl stumbled through Lincoln Center, more than a little hungover. Luckily, she’d run into an old hookup when she’d arrived--a stylist who happily loaned her a Chanel dress in exchange for a few minutes of breathless fun, and Pearl had never been one to say no to something that paid off.

She didn’t feel her best, but she looked damn amazing, which was really all that mattered.

Pearl scanned the crowd, looking for interesting people to stop, maybe even talk to for Galactica’s new youtube channel. Her eyes lit up at a cute little pink-haired girl bouncing along in a Galactica skirt suit that fit her like a glove, and it took her a few moments to register that she actually knew the girl. 

“Courtney!” she called, and Courtney stopped and turned towards her. She was wearing a messenger bag and holding a large to-go cup of coffee, phone clutched in her other hand and notebook tucked under her arm. 

“Oh...hi, Pearl.” Courtney smiled brightly, her energy betraying the fact that she was clearly a newbie, Fashion Week not yet destroying her soul.

“You look great!” Pearl said, and Courtney’s smile grew even bigger, lashes fluttering coyly. “Spin around.” 

Courtney twirled, giggling. 

“Can I take a picture for our Insta? You know, of how to wear Galactica  _ flawlessly _ ?” Pearl asked. She figured that it didn’t hurt to really pile on the compliments, seeing as how Courtney bloomed like a rose with any praise. 

“Sure!” Courtney exclaimed, and then a worried look flashed across her face. “Or...well, maybe not this second. Miss Fame is waiting and I have to get this to her while it’s hot-” 

“Right, of course, but this is also work business, yeah? Please,” Pearl gave her signature pouty look, the one she knew that no one could resist. 

“Well...okay. If we’re really quick.” Courtney gestured to everything in her hands. “What should I do with this stuff?” 

“Keep it! It’s part of the whole effect. And um, pretend you’re talking on the phone.” 

Courtney tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder, posing. She’d clearly done this in the mirror many times, giving Pearl sexy angles right away. Adorable. 

“Yaaas! Omigod, administrative realness. This is great!” Pearl snapped a few photos, and then thanked her. “Okay, I’ll let you go now, but tell me your Instagram handle so I can tag you.” 

“Courtney Act Jenek. J - E - N - E - K.” 

It took Pearl a moment to register, but then she began to laugh. 

“Wait, hold up. Courtney  _ Act _ ? Are you serious?”

“It’s my middle name. My parents love puns,” Courtney said with an apologetic shrug. 

“That’s fucking silly, girl. Love it,” Pearl said, shaking her head. “Okay, found you. You’re free to go now!” 

“Bye Pearl! See you later!” Courtney called, dashing off with that spring still in her step. Pearl shook her head. Ahh, new kids. So full of hope. 

***

“Raven! Raven over here!”

Raven smiled as she pulled her sunglasses down, allowing the crowd of paparazzi to get a glimpse of her eyes. She turned, allowing the cameras to get a photo of her back too, her ass looking downright amazing in her tight skirt. Raven was long past the days of hanging out outside of major shows for an ounce of media attention, but she wasn’t above letting the street style photographers and the paparazzi get a picture of her outfit if she looked good.

“Who are you wearing?”

“Galactica of course!” Raven ran a hand through her hair, making sure the black locks cascaded in just the right way. 

“And that’s enough, princess.” Raven looked up at her fiancée, Raja watching her with a smile, the blue power suit sinfully sexy. 

Raja had taken forever to leave the car, her fiancée emailing someone about something that Raven didn’t care about. She knew Raja just wanted to get to the show, that she just wanted to take her seat and watch the Calvin Klein show, but Raven was never one to miss an opportunity for good pictures.

“For me?” Raven snuck her arm under Raja’s, pulling on her elbow, and with an exasperated groan, Raja posed for the cameras, the two of them standing side by side like the true power couple they were. 

***

“Ouch! What the fuck bitch, don’t punch me!”

Bianca rolled her eyes; she had merely elbowed her sister in the side, trying to get her attention. The two of them were sitting in the front row, waiting for the Calvin Klein show to start.

Bianca took off her sunglasses and used them to point across the room, flashing a dimpled smile at the paparazzi, who went insane the minute she took off her shades.

“Who’s that with Fame?” Bianca pointed, “Isn’t that your friend?” She vaguely recognized the girl, who was handing Fame a Starbucks cup. 

“Oh yeah! That’s Courtney!” 

Adore waved enthusiastically at Courtney, unfortunately not catching her attention as she made her way to her own seat in the back row, far away from both of them and Fame. 

“Right. What’s she doing here?” 

“She’s Fame’s new assistant. I helped her get the interview,” Adore said proudly. “Do you like her hair? I totally colored it yesterday!”

The girl in question had hair tinted rose-gold and pinned up in a chignon, and was wearing a deeper pink bouclé skirt suit that Bianca recognized from Galactica’s 2013 collection. Bianca had met her a few times, she supposed, but must have brushed her off as just a random college kid, one of her baby sister’s many friends. Now though, seeing her all dolled up with chic, mature styling...Bianca found herself thoroughly enchanted. 

“Yeah, it’s cute,” Bianca said benignly. How was it possible that she’d never noticed how absolutely stunning Adore’s best friend was? And Bianca was no stranger to beautiful girls--she was editor in chief of a fashion magazine, for Christ’s sake. But this one had the kind of face that made Bianca feel pain in her chest. Bianca forced her eyes away to tease, “Definitely better than yours.” 

“Fuck off!” Adore laughed, as Bianca gave her newly purple locks a playful tug. “I look fucking cool and you know it.” 

She did look great, actually. The rich, dark purple suited her complexion much better than the fading green she’d covered up, and made her blue eyes pop even more. And best of all, today she’d actually made an effort to style it--as well as wearing tights without a single rip. But Bianca wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of knowing how proud she was, slipping her sunglasses back on with a haughty shrug.

“If you say so…” The dimples gave her away, though, and Adore giggled, kissing her cheek and then leaning a head on her shoulder. 

As the show began, Bianca found her eyes being pulled back in Courtney’s direction, taking in the star-struck awe of her expression as the models strutted down the runway. Her enthusiasm was refreshing and charming, and by the time the show was over, Bianca realized she had spent more time enjoying her gorgeous, dreamy-eyed face than she had judging the clothes.

***

Courtney sat in the car, positively vibrating with excitement. Even if she had only seen the show from the back row, it had been amazing. The lights, the music, the girls and the clothes coming together. And, equally thrilling: Miss Fame had not snapped at her or rolled her eyes at her once all morning. In fact, when she’d left her to get into her own car to go to lunch, Courtney could have sworn that she almost had a smile on her face. 

All of it had seemed like a dream, a perfect dream. Courtney was determined; she could do her job, she could be a fashion girl, and with her new clothes and amazing hair, she would kick all the ass.

Courtney was pulled out of her thoughts when the car door opened and Violet slid in besides her.

“Thank god, I thought I would never find the car! I always forget how crazy it is at Lincoln Center.” Violet didn’t even look at Courtney as she talked, her concentration on her wallet as she pulled out a 20 and handed it to the driver. “Get us to Bryant Park, and then you can get yourself lunch.”

“Yes Miss.” The driver smiled at Violet, quickly snatching the 20 dollars from her hand as he pulled out from the curb.

“Has everything gone well so far? Did Fame make it to the show? Did you like it?”

Violet was still roaming around in her bag, not giving Courtney time to answer her before she pulled out several food items.

“I got you that green juice, and a protein bar. I hope you like peanut butter because that’s all they-”

Violet looked up for the first time since she got in the car, horror filling her face and a loud scream leaving her lips, dropping the juice on the floor.

“What have you done to your hair!?”

Courtney felt dread fill her entire body. It had seemed like such a good idea yesterday. Adore told her it looked “bitchin,” both her mum and brother had loved it on Facebook, and even Pearl had gushed earlier about how cute she looked. 

“I...I dyed it?” 

"Yes, I can see that.” Violet was so clearly trying not to panic. She reached out, grabbing a strand and running it through her fingers. “Is it permanent?!" Violet held the hair up.

"No, I thought-" Courtney swallowed.

"Oh thank god." Violet released the hair, and Courtney sat up. She crossed her arms, leaning back in her seat and closed her eyes, clearly taking deep breaths through her nose, her nails digging into her upper arm. "Good.”

Courtney bit her lip. 

Violet looked angry, and maybe she should have given her a heads-up. 

“I...I just thought that it would look cute with all the stuff Ivy picked out for me this week. There’s...a lot of pink. And people seem to like it-” Courtney twirled nervously on a lock of hair that had escaped her updo. She considered mentioning the photo Pearl took this morning, but decided against it. 

"Could you not talk please?" Violet asked, eyes still closed, everything about her radiating anger.

“Okay.” Courtney swallowed, sitting back uncomfortably, ready to suffer through the rest of the ride in silence. So much for her kick-ass day. 

***

“She dyed her hair, Ivy.”

Ivy had to hide a smile. Violet was whispering, but she could feel how upset she was, the two of them standing at the very back of a show, the runway so far away they could barely see the models.

“Well,” Ivy shrugged. “I think it looks good.” Courtney did look amazing, the pink light and fun and very trendy.

“That’s not the point,” Violet hissed, and Ivy actually turned her head slightly, watching Violet out of the corner of her eyes. “She made that decision without consulting anyone-”

“Nothing happened.”

“I don’t understand why you don’t understand-” Violet took a deep breath through her nose. “When I picked a coral nail polish, Fame sent my right back to the manicurist--”

“But Violet,” Ivy reasoned, “Coral is an actual human atrocity.”

She had hoped the joke would lighten the mood, but Violet blushed instead, and surprisingly, she continued talking.

“--in the middle of the day! I had to work nights for an entire week to reschedule and catch-”

Ivy could clearly see how anxious Violet was, wound tight as a top. It reminded her of when she’d first started, over a year ago, no training or procedures or anything in place from her predecessor, but if possible this seemed even worse. It had taken less than a month before the girl became robotically efficient at her job, no one ever seeing her sweat--one of the best assistants Ivy had ever worked with. But now, ever since Courtney started, Ivy noticed that cool confidence faltering. She wondered why--Courtney seemed perfectly capable to her, if a little overwhelmed, but an extra set of hands was an extra set of hands. She wasn’t sure why Violet was finding it so difficult to handle having her in the office. She wished there was something she could do to ease her tension. 

“But,” Ivy placed a hand on Violet’s arm. “Fame likes Courtney’s hair, so try not to worry about it, okay?”

Violet sighed, her teeth sinking into her pink lip as she leaned back against the wall, her fingers tight on her skirt.

***

Max felt an arm sneak around his waist, distracting him from the girl he was just about to chase down to get a picture of. He turned around and smiled when he saw who it was.

“So do you like the new camera I got you, sweetheart?”

“Hey Miss.”

“Have you found anything interesting?”

Fame smiled, looking up at Max. Even with heels, Fame barely made it to Max’s shoulder.

“I think I got some pretty good shots, do you want to see them?”

“I’d love that, darling.”

Max and Fame quickly found a seat in a nearby VIP lounge where Max got a drink for each of them. Fame lazily sipped on her glass of rosé as Max showed her the pictures he had taken so far that day.

“How has your day been?” Max put away his camera, watching the other partygoers out of the corner of his eye, looking for anything and anyone interesting.

“Well enough I suppose, for the first day of course.” Fame took a sip of her drink, enjoying the fact that she could spend a few quiet moments with Max.

***

Violet took a deep breath, the evening air fresh for New York. The 30 minute wait period had passed, Fame not reaching out to her to demand anything, so Violet had to assume that Fame had everything she needed.

She had released Courtney early, the other so happy she got to go home after a long day of standing around in heels, trying her best to look pretty, stay out of the way, and be useful.

For a lot of people, Fashion Week was all glitz and glamor, the whole thing a desperate dash to be seen in as many places as possible, to be the most important, the most fashionable, the most beautiful.

For Violet though, she couldn’t wait to go home, close the door and take a long shower.

Every time she saw that stupid pink hair, she was reminded of what terrible decisions the other girl made, constantly, how she was not to be trusted, how if Violet wanted her promotion, she had better be on top of things 24/7 to guarantee that Courtney was ready to take over the office.

Ivy didn’t seem to see the problem, which had only made Violet feel worse, disaster right around the corner, and she was apparently the only one knowing it was on the horizon. 

She had clearly been too soft with Courtney, but that ended now. 

No more friendly, easy-going coworker.


	21. NYFW - Galactica Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Fashion Week began with no major crisis in sight (well, except for Courtney’s pink hair). 
> 
> This Chapter: Someone gets fired, someone gets lucky, and the Galactica collection gets presented to the world.

Willam took a deep breath before knocking decisively on Detox’s door. To say that he was not excited about being summoned to an unplanned meeting with his boss would be a huge understatement. But here he was. 

“Come in!” 

Detox was on the phone when Willam entered. He gestured for him to sit, receiver still pressed to his ear. Willam obeyed, rolling his eyes internally. That was such an amateur power move.  _ Oh, look at me, Mr. Big Bad Editor, I’m so busy and important.  _

Willam’s eyes drifted towards the window.  _ OK! _ Magazine was on the 10th floor of their midtown building: not the best view, not the worst. Everything about this place was middling to Willam. Including Detox, who was now finishing up his oh so important phone call. In his ugly green sport coat. 

Detox hung up the phone, then leveled his gaze directly at Willam. 

“I assume you know why you’re here.” 

“‘Cause I’m getting a raise?” Willam asked hopefully. 

Detox trained his eyes on the ceiling for a brief moment before saying, “No. What did I tell you about Galactica and Miss Fame last week?” 

“You said that there was no story and that I should drop it, but-” 

“So why the fuck do I hear rumors that you’re still nosing around?” 

_ Rhea. That fucking bitch.  _

“Because! I know you’re wrong!” Willam exclaimed. “You know that in all the years Galactica has been in business, there is not one tiny  _ shred _ of bad press? Doesn’t that seem strange to you?” 

“Will-” 

“I know she’s your friend, okay? And I don’t know what you’re trying to hide, but I will find it.” 

“Great,” Detox said. “Find it for someone else.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You’re fired, Willam. Clear out your desk by the end of the day.” 

Willam opened his mouth, then stood up in a huff. 

“You know, when you hired me, you said that you wanted tenacious reporters who would challenge you.” 

“I did,” Detox said, his tone bored as he opened a folder and began to scan through it. “I guess I changed my mind.”

“Fuck you, Detox!” Willam spat, storming from the office and slamming the door behind him. He strode down the hall to his own office, righteous anger rising as he went. There was a story, a good one, Willam was  _ sure _ of it. And when he found it, he would make Detox eat his fucking words. 

***

_ DETOX: Hey, I know you’re busy right now, but just wanted to give you a heads-up. I had to fire a reporter today who’s been poking around Galactica looking for dirt. (A futile effort, I know, but still annoying.) His name is Willam Belli.  _

_ FAME: Thank you darling. Don’t worry, my staff knows better than to talk to reporters without approval.  _

_ DETOX: Good girl. See you Thursday. _

_ FAME: XO _

***

“Hey baby.” Katya smiled, crawling on top of Trixie’s lap. He had come home from the second day of Fashion Week, practically collapsing into the bed the second he had opened the door. Katya had taken one look at Trixie, grabbed the phone, ordered pizzas from Trixie’s favorite place and found their collection of Disney films before Trixie had even kicked off his pants.

“Ouch, careful!” Trixie laughed, trying to move so he could shift Katya’s weight, taking the pressure off his stomach, but it only held him down. The two of them had watched  _ Beauty and the Beast  _ and then  _ The Little Mermaid _ and now they were just lounging around, half-naked and lazily kissing.

“My big, strong designer man.” Katya leaned down to kiss Trixie’s cheek before pulling away slowly, her hand trailing down his face, gently caressing it.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.” Trixie smiled, his eyes filled with love as he looked up at Katya.

“Even after you’ve spent the day looking at models?” Katya’s tone was teasing, but Trixie could see the insecurity in her eyes, which broke his heart.

“The most beautiful woman in all of the world.”

Katya leaned down again, kissing Trixie, her hands buried in his hair as she started to slowly rut against him.

Trixie moaned, letting Katya take complete control of their movements, letting her grab his hands and hold them above his head.

“Let me see you, baby…” he whined, but Katyas simply smiled, biting Trixie’s lip.

“Say it again.”

“I want to see you, please, let me see you.”

Katya laughed and straightened her back, Trixie keeping his hands above his head without her having to tell him. She pulled her shirt over her head, letting it fall to the floor.

“Please- Katya.” Trixie felt like he was about to vibrate out of his skin, he wanted her so badly, wanted to be inside her.

“Sssh, ssh.” Katya smiled. She felt powerful, so beautiful, she felt like she could do anything as she looked into Trixie’s eyes, saw the love in them as she guided Trixie inside of her, took him all the way in before she leaned forward again, crashing their lips together.

Trixie moaned, drowning in the scent and feel of Katya. She rode him and he dug his hands into her hips and grabbed her perfect tits. Trixie felt pleasure crash over him and he finished with a roar, Katya slapping her hand over his mouth to keep him quiet.

She sank down on his chest, giggling uncontrollably, panting with the aftermath of her own silent orgasm.

“Ssh, ssh baby, ssh, Pearl is home, ssh.” Katya’s laugh sounded like the sweetest music in Trixie’s ears. He felt drunk on happiness, sleepy and completely at peace with the world.

“I love you so fucking much” he groaned.

Katya gave him a wet, messy, final kiss. “I love you too.”

***

Pearl stood outside, leaning on the side of the building, a cigarette hanging from her mouth as she scrolled through her phone. 

There was a light rain, more like a gentle mist, collecting in her hair and on the outside of her leather jacket, even as she clung to the side of the building, a narrow eave above her head offering little. Adore watched her, her own hair protected by a big fur hood, trying to stop her stomach from doing flips. 

She’d known Pearl casually for a while now, and known of her even longer. She knew all the stories, was well aware of her reputation as a player and a heartbreaker, but Adore didn’t care about any of that. Especially when Pearl looked up, catching her eye as she strolled through the courtyard, the smile she flashed at her making her insides twist with excitement. 

Pearl was fucking hot, and even though Adore felt like a basic bitch for pining after her, she couldn’t control herself. She wanted her. Wanted to taste her filthy smoker breath, wanted Pearl’s face buried in her pussy. 

“Hey, Adore,” Pearl said as she approached. 

“Hi Pearl,” Adore replied with a smile. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m waiting for Max, Max Malanaphy.”

“Really? That’s dope.”

“You know him?” Pearl asked, head cocked. 

“Not at all.”

Pearl laughed, which made Adore blush, lowering her eyes demurely. 

“Do you want a cigarette?” asked Pearl, and Adore nodded, relieved for the distraction. 

“Yeah, sure, hit me.”

Adore took one of the cigarettes from Pearl, placing it between her lips, patting her pockets to look for a lighter, but Pearl was already one step ahead. 

“Let me get that for you.” 

Adore could practically feel her stomach do backflips as she leaned in, Pearl’s hands so close to her face as she protected the flame from the wind. Adore knew it was dumb, knew it was embarrassing, but what was she gonna do? The heart wanted what it wanted.

***

Willam paced around the courtyard at Bryant Park, trying to look inconspicuous and casual, waiting for Courtney to arrive at the tent where Galactica would be showing that afternoon. He wore his press badge from last year, hoping that she wouldn’t notice the difference. 

After fuming and pouting about being fired for almost a day, Willam had gotten down to business. He found Courtney’s social media accounts on every platform, following her and doing a deep dive into her posts going back several years. 

He learned everything about her: her aspirations in life, the names of her family, her favorite foods and music and books, her college major, and who her friends were. 

Random things that could be meaningless found grave importance, stored away for future use: that she was a vegetarian who frequented the kind of music festivals where basic white girls wore flower crowns, that her brother was a mildly successful Sydney-based drag queen, that her longest relationship in college had been with an insufferable-looking football player (he made a point to butch it up a bit today, as much as he could) and that she apparently had some kind of psychotic habit of eating kiwis whole, skin and all. 

He felt prepared, armed with a bouquet of her favorite pink roses. 

Luckily, the pink hair made it easy to spot her out of the corner of his eye, and as she climbed the steps towards the tent, he beelined straight for her, a big smile on his face. 

“Hey there, I was hoping to find you here!” he exclaimed, holding out the roses. 

She looked shocked and predictably delighted.

“Hi! What’s all this for?” 

“Well, I know you’re probably having a stressful week, and didn’t want you to forget about me.” He winked at her, careful not to seem too soft or feminine. She liked cocky assholes, after all. 

“That would be a bit tough,” she laughed, twirling her hair, inhaling the scent of the roses. 

“I love the new hair, by the way. You look like a pop star.“ Willam knew that it was cheap to use her own hopes and dreams against her, but he was a little proud of himself regardless. 

“Really?!” she asked, face lighting up with joy. 

“Totally,” Willam said. God, she was putty in his hands. 

“Um...are you coming to the show?” she asked, gesturing to the tent. 

“No...unfortunately, I have to cover Naeem Khan. Maybe we could hook up later?” 

“Oh,” Courtney bit her lip. “Well, I have the afterparty...I’d try to get you in, but only have one extra ticket and I promised it to my friend Tati. She’s a model, so it’s really important to her, and-” 

“Loyalty is very important,” Willam said with a grin, and she gave a relieved sigh. He knew that showing up at a Galactica party would be risky--Detox would probably be there, after all, so better to stay away and work her from behind the scenes. It also probably helped for him not to seem too terribly eager. “But when am I gonna see you again?” 

“Maybe Saturday?” 

_ Excellent. _ Right into his trap. 

“Um, sure. I was actually planning to catch this show in Brooklyn. There’s a band I love playing this little club in Williamsburg.”

“What band?” 

“You’ve probably never heard of them,” Willam said, chuckling softly before carefully saying the name of the weird Icelandic band that he’s been practicing in the mirror all morning. “Sólseturstríðsmenn--they’re this kind of-” 

“I  _ love _ them!” Courtney squealed, eyes wide. “Omigod, my and my best friend saw them at a festival a few years ago, I had no idea they were in New York!” 

“Yeah? You should come.” 

“That sounds amazing!” She glanced towards the tent, clearly anxious about work. 

“I know you probably have more important things to do than talk to me right now,” Willam said, hanging his head with false modesty. “I’m sorry to be hounding you at work, I just...I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” 

He was going too far and he knew it. But her face softened. Compliments were obviously the ticket. 

“I, um...I’ll message you later, okay?” she asked, and he nodded. 

As she turned to leave, he exclaimed, “Wait!” 

“Yes?” She turned back toward him, her expression one of total naive innocence, and it almost made him feel guilty. Almost. 

“I just...needed to see your face one last time.” 

She giggled, then leaned forward to kiss him.  _ Uh oh. _ This was escalating way too fast. After a slight, momentary panic, he took hold of her shoulders and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. Pulling away, he tried to assess if that had been the right move. She was smiling, her green eyes soft and dreamy.  _ Perfect.  _

“See you Saturday.” 

***

“Done!” Alaska smiled at the model she had just finished painting, and raised her hand, flagging down Fame who was walking around the backstage area of their Bryant Park tent.

“Yes?”

It was Thursday at Fashion week, and Galactica was one of the last shows to happen that day, which meant that everyone was trying their best to get it all together and end the day with a bang worthy of their brand.

“Approved?” Alaska had just finished with the first model, her hair and makeup all done. While a lot of other department heads would probably have left the actual makeup application to someone beneath them, Alaska loved creating, and never passed up on a chance to use her skills. Not to mention the fact that with their staffing nightmare, she wanted to make sure that she was as hands-on as possible. 

Fame scrutinized the model carefully, then nodded. 

“Looks good.” Fame said, then huffed slightly, fanning herself. “Violet!” 

Alaska couldn’t help smiling to herself when Violet immediately appeared at Fame’s side as if by magic, Courtney on her heels, both of them looking like they belonged in Page Six, though they were in vastly different styles.

“Yes, Miss?” 

“Can you please explain to me why it’s hotter than the surface of the sun in this tent? I’m  _ sweltering _ .” 

Courtney opened her mouth to reply, but Fame held up a hand. 

“Don’t answer.” Fame flicked her wrist, clearly dismissing them. “Just fix it!” 

“Yes Miss!” Violet exclaimed, then scurried off, pulling Courtney with her. 

Fame’s attention was already gone, but Alaska continued to watch as Courtney leaned in, doing a very bad attempt at whispering.

“Maybe we should have told her to just take off her cape-” 

The blonde was cut off with a squeal, as Violet pinched her, and Alaska shook her head, not envying them in the least. 

***

“Trixie!”

Trixie felt his blood freeze as he heard Blu wailing from the other side of the tent, the noise cutting through everything, the entire room stopping for one, long, dreadful moment.

“Here!”

Trixie ran, Blu’s eyes filled with tears, the young designer standing beside a model who looked just as pale, her dress ripped.

“It all happened so fast-” Blu pointed to her busted zipper and torn seam, the fabric still caught in the model's heel.

“Shit!” Trixie exclaimed, surveying the damage to the dress, his hands touching the models hip.

“I-”

Trixie looked up, meeting the gaze of the young girl. She looked like she wanted to die, her expression filled with absolute mortification, and Trixie tightened his grip slightly.

“You’re okay.” Trixie held her gaze. “We’re fixing this, and you’re okay. Okay?”

The model nodded, and Trixie did as well.

“Gia!” 

The designer was already at his side, the woman one of their fastest sewers when no one from tailoring was available. Trixie was grateful for her efficiency. He’d learned early on with her that she held up better than most under pressure, and boy had she been under pressure many times in this job. 

“Blu, help her if needed, but Gia has this one.”

“Yes!” Gia wasted no time, moving the model a few feet before she grabbed her kit and got to work.

Trixie left her side, fairly confident that she had the situation under control but making a mental note to check back in a few minutes.

He resumed his final checks, walking around and examining every garment on every girl, making sure that there were no loose threads or unfinished seams showing, checking the styling carefully, giving out last minute instructions to his team. 

He’d just finished speaking to Alexis when he looked up and noticed Violet gazing at the commotion wistfully. 

Trixie smiled to himself; Fame had informed him over a month ago of her plan to move Violet to design, and after taking a look at her spectacular portfolio, he was 100% in favor of it. 

Seeing how longingly she looked at them scrambling to get everything done for the show simply confirmed to him that design was where she was meant to be. 

***

Fame took a deep breath, watching the models on the backstage monitors. No matter how many times they did this, she always had butterflies as if it was her first time. But objectively , she had to admit that she was more than satisfied with this collection. 

Beside her, Raja let out a soft chuckle. 

“What?” 

“Well, it’s just...when you said you wanted to redo the whole collection, I thought you were nuts,” Raja said. 

“I know.”

“But...I have to admit, this is a spectacular show.” Raja slipped an arm around her shoulders. 

“I know.” Fame grinned wryly up at her, and Raja laughed, laying a kiss on her forehead. 

Fame sighed happily, smoothing down her skirt, getting ready to step out onto the runway. Kim scurried over to her to touch up their makeup, making sure that they were as flawless and dewy-fresh as they’d been this morning. 

After they were both powdered and fluffed and declared finished, Fame took Raja’s hand and walked with her to the head of the runway, waiting for their cue. She exchanged a happy glance with Raja before they stepped onto the runway. They’d done it again. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Everyone survived the Galactica runway show.  
> This Chapter: Time for the afterparty! (And after-afterparty, in the case of one couple.)

“The Grand Hotel, please.”

“Right away ma’am.”

Katya checked her bag, just to make sure that she had the paper invitation to the Galactica afterparty that Trixie had given her. The Galactica parties were legendary and Trixie’s phone had been ringing off the hook since Pearl had announced on her twitter that the location had been booked.

Galactica had rented out the entire hotel for the party, and they had even booked a selected amount of hotel rooms for VIP guests if anyone ended up partying too hard. By the time that Katya’s taxi pulled up to the curb of the hotel, the paparazzi was there, their flashes and cameras going off again and again as they took pictures of the designers, bloggers, socialites, models and fashion editors who were arriving. Katya took a deep breath, but thankfully no one noticed her.

“Hey sugarbutt.” Trixie smiled brightly as he spotted Katya making her way towards him. She was beautiful as always, but tonight it was like she was glowing, a sight for sore eyes after Trixie had spent three days looking at angry, moody models who never smiled.

The two kissed, and Trixie held out a glass for Katya. 

“It’s sparkling cider. Violet found one in the exact same shade as the champagne.” Katya smiled, thankful for the fact that she wouldn’t have to explain herself all night.

“She thinks of everything, doesn’t she?”

“It’s almost freaky.”

Katya giggled and took a small sip of her drink, before flagging down a waiter who was carrying around a tray of canapés.

“So how has your day been?” Trixie had found a bench for them to sit at, so he was now tucked into Katya’s side, occasionally getting a bite or two from the food Katya had collected along with sips of her drink which Trixie liked a lot more than the champagne he had gotten himself.

“Pretty good. One of the kids offered me a cigarette from his locker stash, and said he had more if I agreed to go on a date with him behind the bike shed. Unfortunately he was seven, so I had to confiscate everything; imagine the great romance I killed.” Katya laughed and gave Trixie one of the salmon hors d'oeuvres from her plate.

“Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova, destroyer of hearts.”

***

Courtney stood with Adore and Tati, telling them all about her encounter that morning with Willam. She still didn’t know quite what to make of the boy. It wasn’t the first time she’d been on the receiving end of such eager advances, but there was something a bit off about it. Courtney couldn’t exactly put her finger on it. 

“I mean, the roses were really sweet, you know?” she said. “And anyone who likes Sólseturstríðsmenn has to be at least a little awesome, right?” 

“Totally!” Adore enthused. 

“Eh, I don’t know.” Tati sipped her cocktail. “He sounds pretty creepy to me.” 

“He doesn’t _feel_ creepy. Just a bit…” Courtney searched for the right word, but found herself at a loss. “He’s just really different from all the guys I’ve dated before. But like, considering my history, maybe that’s a good thing.” 

“I’ll say! Remember we used to call you the Douche Magnet?” Adore laughed. 

“Yeah, I loved that,” Courtney told her, grimacing. “And one date can’t hurt, right?” 

“Carpe diem, bitch!” Adore agreed, then began waving excitedly to someone over Courtney’s shoulder. “B!” 

Courtney turned to see Adore’s sister, Bianca, approaching them. She’d only met Bianca twice before, but of course she knew all about her: how she was one of the most powerful women in New York, how she took care of Adore, basically like a second mother. And how, in spite of being siblings, she was as unlike Adore as night and day. 

Adore was tall and lanky, with an easy laugh and charmingly youthful demeanor. She managed to look cool with randomly thrown-together outfits and messy hair that told the world she didn’t give a fuck. 

Bianca, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more of a perfectionist. Every detail of her appearance was intentional, from her elaborate updo with not a hair out of place, to the pressed seams on her perfectly tailored designer clothes, the blue dress she was wearing today fitting her like a glove, hugging every curve--another difference from Adore. As she wrapped her arm around her little sister’s waist, Courtney saw clearly just how different they looked, Bianca smaller and curvier, with rounded hips, a tiny waist, and a bigger chest than Adore’s. Much bigger, Courtney couldn’t help but notice, accentuated by her low neckline. 

It wasn’t until Adore spoke next that Courtney caught herself staring, a blush rising to her cheeks as she looked up quickly to Bianca’s face, brown eyes staring directly into hers, dimples appearing in her cheeks as she smiled. 

“B, you remember my friends, Tatianna…” 

Tati grinned, sticking out her hand, thrilled to be meeting the famous editor-in-chief. 

“Hi! Omigod, it’s such an honor to finally meet you-” 

“Yeah, hi,” Bianca said, giving her a cursory pat on the shoulder, her eyes never leaving Courtney’s. 

“...and Courtney.” 

“Hey.” Courtney managed a smile in spite of her painfully hot cheeks, praying that she didn’t embarrass herself in front of this important woman. 

“Hi there. I hear you’re working at Galactica,” Bianca said. 

“Yeah, about a month now.” 

“Impressive.” 

“Thank you.” A thrill rippled down Courtney’s spine. That was the first time anyone who meant anything had implied that what she was doing was something to be proud of. Knowing that she’d made even the slightest impression on Bianca made her feel invincible. 

“You’re in Fame’s office, right?” Bianca’s head cocked slightly to the side, and Courtney felt a little bit of that familiar dread creep into her stomach, praying that she didn’t seem anything other than grateful to be working for Miss Fame. 

“Yes. I’m her second assistant.” She forced another smile. 

“In that case, I think we better get you a stronger drink,” Bianca said, with a conspiratorial wink and another flash of those dimples.

Courtney bit her lip. The light shade at her boss made her feel special, almost like they had a secret between them. Bianca was one of Fame’s best friends, but unlike Adore, she was also a work colleague. So it made sense that she had a bit more insight into the way she ran her office. Of course, if Courtney agreed too enthusiastically, there was a chance that she’d ruin this very tentative new alliance, so instead she just giggled charmingly and shook her head. 

“That’s okay. I’m still technically on the clock, and I have to work tomorrow, so...better stick with this thimbleful of champagne.” She held up her glass, lashes fluttering. 

“Very responsible,” Bianca said, then turned to Adore and asked, “How is she _your_ friend?” 

“Opposites attract?” Adore guessed. 

“Humanity is a rich tapestry,” Courtney added, taking a delicate sip of her champagne as Bianca cackled gleefully. 

“That it is.” She held Courtney’s gaze for a few more moments, before noticing someone nearby flagging her and sighing slightly, turning to Adore with an eye roll. “I guess I better go work the room some more. We still on for Saturday?” she asked, giving Adore another squeeze. 

“If you’re paying, I’m there!” Adore agreed cheerfully, accepting a kiss on the cheek. 

“Perfect.” Bianca turned back to Courtney. “Nice seeing you again.” 

“Yeah, you too,” Courtney said, swallowing. All this focused attention was making her feel a bit lightheaded. 

“Bye kiddos, have fun. But not too much!” 

“No promises!” called Adore. 

“Byee,” Courtney breathed, watching her leave, a strangely wistful feeling curling in her stomach. She took another sip of her drink, wondering what it was she was feeling...she supposed it was mostly envy, which made her a bit ashamed. As much as she loved her best friend, she had to admit that right now, she couldn’t help but be jealous that she had Bianca in her life, a constant and reassuring presence supporting everything she did. After all, how different would Courtney’s life be if her brother had even a tenth of the influence or respect (or money) that Bianca had? She shook the thought out of her mind, sighing slightly. It was no use wishing for something that wasn’t possible. 

She was so buried in her own thoughts that she completely missed the pointed look that Adore and Tati exchanged over her head, nodding distractedly when Tati announced that she was getting another drink. 

***

The party was going well. Very well. Violet was leaning against a wall, an empty and clean champagne glass in her hand. She had nicked it from one of the party planners, the women out mingling with the party guests, the only thing singling them out the clear plastic earpieces all of them wore.

Violet was keeping an eye on Fame, her boss looking like a vision in white. On anyone else, it would have looked bridal, but Fame always managed to carry herself with grace, wisdom and dignity like an aura around her.

Violet felt a presence besides her, someone sliding in right next to her, the scent of tobacco and cedarwood catching her nose.

“Hello lovely eyes.”

“Hey,” Violet turned her head, unable to help the smile blooming on her lips, and the sense of pride that settled in the bottom of her stomach. 

He leaned in for a kiss, and even though Violet hesitated for just a second, she couldn’t resist the siren call, the fact that she was in public be damned.

“Mmh-” Sutan broke their kiss, a smirk on his lips. Violet smiled, and turned her head. “You look gorgeous.”

Violet had gotten dressed in the bathroom, changing from her daytime look and into something appropriate for a night out. It had been a bit of a struggle, but she had managed, her hair twirled into a French twist that she hoped suited the soft lilac of her dress.

“I could say the same to you.” The praise was an absolute understatement, Sutan looking downright hot in a perfectly fitted suit, an ochre shirt causing his skin to practically glow. 

“So-” Sutan leaned back against the wall, apparently more than content to hang out on the edge of the party, no one looking their way. “Have you had a good day?”

Viole wasn’t sure if it was good, trying to predict Fame’s mood when she was outside of the office even harder than normal, but it was Fashion Week, and that meant she could withstand any challenge.

“Yeah, and you?”

“No major emergencies.” Sutan pushed a gentle elbow into her side, and Violet could see the smile on his face. He was obviously teasing her, mischief in his eyes, but Violet also knew how fast things could go sour when models were involved, the girl who had torn a dress thankfully not one of Sutan’s hires.

“Really all we can aim for.”

Sutan chuckled, and Violet felt that heat return, her stomach doing a pleasant flop.

“Can I get you a drink?” Sutan nodded to Violet’s empty glass. She shot a quick glance at Fame, her boss completely caught up in conversation, a bright smile on her face, Patrick at her side, and Violet decided to take the chance, to actually give in to Sutan’s temptations for once.

“I’d like that.”

***

“Well, we’ve done it again!” Raja exclaimed, one arm tight around Raven’s waist as she toasted her friends. 

“Cheers!” Raven cried, clinging to her fiancée as everyone clinked their glasses, her hair still smelling like the spray the makeup team always preferred.

It had taken forever to get everyone together in the bar, to take a moment with her nearest and dearest, but as Raja looked around, the hassle had been absolutely worth it.

“Cheers indeed.” Fame giggled, already adorably tipsy on champagne and adrenaline. “Thank you so much for all of your support...” 

Raja took a moment, a little afraid that Fame would start crying, finishing a collection always exhausting her, but she didn’t have to worry.

“Like we have a choice, Blondie,” Bianca joked as she joined the group, tugging lightly on Fame’s hair. 

“On a personal note, I’m a little sad that no models fell off the runway or tripped on their hems where we could see them,” said Detox, earning some side-eye from his wife, Juju giving him that warning look before he quickly added, “But I’m super proud of you. Great show.” 

Raja smiled, looking around at her friend’s gorgeous faces, before realizing that her brother was nowhere to be found. 

Where was Sutan? 

***

“Nh-” Violet bit her lip, swallowing a moan as Sutan placed a kiss against her neck, his stumble scratching her in the most delicious way.

She hadn’t seen Sutan all week, his touch just as good as she remembered it, the temptation to fall into him and disappear almost too great to withstand.

If you asked Violet how she had ended up tucked away in a dark corner on the building's patio, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to answer. Sutan had asked if she wanted to go outside, his hand in hers before she had made up her mind. There were people up there, the faint sound of chatter almost reaching her ears, but it didn’t feel like it mattered, Violet completely lost to the world.

“Ah” Violet gasped, her fingers desperately tightening, grabbing the fabric of Sutan’s jacket. “Please-”

“Mmh?” 

Violet could practically feel the smirk, Sutan humming against her skin. 

“Feels good?”

It felt good, very, very good.

Violet was practically in a daze, Sutan’s touch so very pleasant, but then, she felt fingers on her neck, fingertips brushing her skin as Sutan reached up, up, up.

“No-” Violet grabbed Sutan’s wrist, stopping him inches from her head. “Don’t touch my hair.”

There was still a chance she’d have to be presentable, still a risk Fame would call on her. She had reacted without thinking, Sutan looking at her, and for a minute, Violet worried if he would get mad, but then, he chuckled, his face breaking into a smile.

“Of course, lovely eyes.”

***

Pearl strolled through the party, wondering how much longer she had to walk around engaging in small talk and sipping on weak cocktails before she could leave. One of her friends had tweeted about a new club in Queens and she was hoping to check it out, but she really wanted to go home and change first. 

Pearl knew she looked good in her skin tight black dress, but she knew that she’d look even better in the slutty cropped number she had at home.

She glanced at the exit. 

Would Fame get upset if she left? She had made an appearance, so what more could she be expected to do?

Pearl made her way towards the door, giving the cursory smiles and waves as she went, when someone caught her eye. Adore Delano was standing with a couple of girls at a cocktail table, gazing at her longingly, cheeks immediately turning a deep red when Pearl gave her a smile in return. 

When Pearl first met Adore, she’d seemed so young, and it was easy to dismiss her as a sweet kid. Sure, she flirted harmlessly with her, but nothing ever went beyond that. But the way she was eyeing her up at the moment, Pearl couldn’t help thinking what a fun little adventure she’d be. For all her bravado and tough girl front, Pearl had a sneaking suspicion that she could quite easily be reduced to a whimpering, needy mess. 

She approached the group, slipping in beside Adore to say hello. 

“Hi, Pearl!” Courtney said cheerfully. 

“Hey, Courtney.” Pearl could feel Adore shift beside her, but decided to hold off on giving her any attention for a moment, concentrating on her friend. “People are totally obsessed with that picture of you from Monday.” 

“Really?!” Courtney squealed, her eyes lighting up. 

“It was cute,” Pearl said, amused by how easily excitable her young coworker was. “We should do it again some time.”

Courtney’s mouth dropped open. 

“Sure!” she said. 

Pearl then shifted her gaze to Adore, touching her wrist lightly. 

“Hi, Adore.” 

“Hiii,” Adore breathed. “Um...can I buy you a drink?” 

“It’s an open bar,” Courtney pointed out, and Adore elbowed her in the ribs. Seeming to catch on to the situation, Courtney cleared her throat and grabbed the hand of their other friend, saying, “You know what? I need to go introduce Tati to...uh...Max!” 

She yanked the girl away, leaving Pearl alone with Adore, fingers still lingering on her wrist. 

“So, um…” Adore swallowed. “Drink?” 

“I have a better idea,” Pearl said, leaning in close to say, “My friend just told me about a party in Queens, and I was gonna head there now. Wanna join?” 

Adore nodded, hypnotized. She threw back the rest of her drink and slung her mini-backpack over her shoulder. 

“Thanks for the invite,” she said, lashes fluttering. 

Pearl grinned, telling her, “You can thank me later,” and tossing in a wink for good measure. 

Adore opened her mouth, but nothing came out except the cutest little sigh. Oh yeah. She was going to be fun. 

***

“Max!”

Max turned around, a plate of finger foods in hand. He spotted Courtney, the girl bouncing as she came towards him, her blonde hair now a candy floss pink.

“Hello Courtney.”

“This is my friend-” Courtney pulled someone forward, “Tatianna Santolini. She’s a model.”

Max wasn’t surprised in the least. Tatianna was the perfect height, slim, but not unhealthy, the slight muscles in her arms promising a hidden strength. Her skin was a wonderful caramel, her eyes a lovely hazel.

“Courtney!” Tatianna pushed her friend, a smile on her lips, and Max saw that her teeth checked out too, her smile bright and perfectly in place. “I’m not a model.”

“You’re not?” Max was confused, a girl that was that pretty and apparently also humble in Manhattan a rare occurrence.

“Yet!” Courtney held up a finger. “She just moved here.”

“Ah.” That made a lot more sense. “Do you have any potentials?”

“Potentials?” Tatianna looked like she didn’t understand him, and Max realised that she was really and truly not a model.

“Know what?” Max looked at her. “Let me take your picture. I know someone who’d be very interested.”

***

Adore was in absolute heaven, pressed up against Pearl on the dance floor, the crush of bodies around them forcing them to stay close. They’d taken some Molly when they arrived, and were now blissfully rolling, the electricity of the music pumping through Adore’s blood. 

Pearl’s breath against her cheek felt amazing, and Adore rubbed against her, face seeking out the warmth of her neck. When they finally kissed, Adore thought she might swoon, her entire body tingling with pleasure. 

“You’re so fucking hot…” Adore said, and Pearl laughed, taking Adore’s face in her hands and looking her up and down. 

“Look who’s talking,” said Pearl, and Adore pressed in closer, feeling her knees start to buckle. 

What little that remained of Adore’s self-control had dissolved by now, and she gripped Pearl’s waist tightly, hips rutting against her. 

“I need you,” she whimpered. 

Pearl smiled--a slow, lazy smirk spreading across her face like the cat that caught the canary. “Oh yeah? Then I guess we should get out of here…”

***

Fame bit her lip. Her feet ached, her dress was uncomfortable, her hairstyle hurt and even though she was tipsy, she was cold.

The only thing that made the wait bearable was the fact that Patrick was with her, both Violet and Courtney gone when Fame had felt ready to call for a car.

The Galactica party had gone well, the night living up to her expectations, but Fame was tired, and she wanted to go home.

“Uh! Taxi-” Fame held out her hand, but the yellow car went right by her, causing her to swear loudly. 

Before she had realized what she was doing, her Louboutin was already off, Fame’s brain more than ready to throw the shoe after the car, but Patrick wrapped his arms around her.

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Patrick laughed and took the shoe from her. Fame blushed, holding onto Patrick so her stocking wouldn’t get soiled on the pavement. “We’ll get the next one.”

***

The way Adore’s breath hitched in her throat as Pearl leaned in to kiss her neck was adorable.

Adore was all puffy lips, heavy eyes and the most buttery soft skin Pearl had felt in a long time. What began as a fun little experiment--how quickly could she reduce her to a whimpering mess--quickly became an even more exciting challenge. 

How long could she keep her on the edge, clawing desperately at Pearl’s shoulders, moaning in blissful agony? The way she begged shamelessly, dripping wet all over Pearl’s fingers, was so sexy that Pearl could have come herself. 

“Please, please, Pearl…” 

Pearl silenced her with a kiss, biting gently on her perfect upper lip, tongue teasing her mouth open. 

“Careful, baby...don’t come until I say so.”

Pearl’s fingers slowed, thumb first brushing lightly against her clit, then pressing down on it, making her cry out, hips desperately rocking back onto Pearl’s hand.

“Please, oh God, please.”

“Not yet.”

Pearl smiled and twisted her fingers, working even faster.

Adore was gasping now, little tits bouncing with each breath, purple hair fanned out over the pillow, skin glistening with sweat, and it made Pearl want to lick her all over.

“Hold on, honey,” she whispered into Adore’s neck, “Just a bit longer. You can do it for me.”

Pearl laughed as Adore whined; she loved the power she had when a girl was breaking apart in her hands, even if her arm was cramping and her jaw ached from the two orgasms she had already wrung out of her. Pearl might not be a saint, but she never left a girl unsatisfied.

Adore, bless her, was not going to last much longer. She was tense and rolling her hips to meet every thrust of Pearl’s hand. Her nails raked down Pearl’s back, fingers digging into her ass, panting. As Pearl looked into her desperate, unfocused eyes, she decided to have mercy on her.

“Okay.”

Pearl curled her fingers forward, stroking her g spot, thumb rubbing her clit in vigorous circles. 

Adore groaned as she came, hips pumping frantically before slumping against her, still gasping for air. 

Pearl eased her fingers out, stroking her gently as she came down, finding the bruises she’d left on her neck and licking them softly. 

“Good girl,” she said, chuckling against her skin, damp with sweat. 

“Fuuuuuck…” Adore sighed, and Pearl laughed some more, nuzzling into her neck.

Not normally much of a cuddler, Pearl would usually leave right after fucking a girl, but there was something charming about the way Adore immediately wrapped her long arms and legs around Pearl’s body. As she tangled their limbs together, her purple hair tickling Pearl’s nose, Pearl found herself relaxing into the younger girl’s soft flannel sheets. One night wouldn’t kill her. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: The Galactica afterparty brought people together in many different ways. 
> 
> This Chapter: NYFW comes to an end, and the team leaves for London, some more enthusiastically than others.

Ivy strolled through the courtyard at Bryant Park, on her way to deliver a charged battery pack to Raja before the Ralph Lauren show began, since Raja was as incapable of keeping her own alive as she was caring for the plants she continually adopted, all of that falling on Ivy - who fortunately didn’t mind, enjoying the relaxing tasks of caring for them as a break from the craziness of corporate life. 

Most assistants as experienced as Ivy would be annoyed at doing this kind of menial delivery task, some probably even seeing it as demeaning, but Ivy was happy for the excuse to get out of the office and observe the colorful chaos of New York Fashion Week in person. Especially today, on the last day, when people from every walk of life seemed to converge in Bryant Park in a strange and glorious blend of humanity. 

If Ivy was being honest with herself, she was quite the people watcher. She loved sitting back and collecting knowledge about others, not because she wanted to do anything with the information, but just to satisfy her own relentless curiosity, which was as much a part of her as the gap in her teeth. 

She’d seen so much over the course of this week, so many things that she knew people probably had no idea she knew. She had watched her own boss quietly panic a few hours before the Galactica show, a look in her eyes that everyone else missed--people always assumed that Raja was 100% confident all the time, but Ivy knew better. She’d seen the way Pearl showed up every day looking more and more hungover, the young executive clearly going through something that she was desperately trying to party away. She’d noticed Violet at the party last night, slipping away with Sutan, one of her first glimpses ever into Violet’s personal life. 

After dropping off the battery pack, Ivy took her time returning to the line of waiting taxis, taking in the eclectic group of people swarming around and she stopped to buy herself an iced coffee. She was leaning against the wall when she noticed someone staring at her. Ivy definitely recognized the other woman, a redhead with even brighter hair than her own, but she couldn’t place her, which made her feel slightly uncomfortable as the other didn’t look away, their eyes meeting across the courtyard. A fellow observer, she supposed. 

Ivy smiled a little, deciding to take a chance on fate, and raised her hand to wave, and the other woman returning it with the brightest smile Ivy had ever seen.

***

“Remember to check with the hotel if they have washed the sheets correctly. You know I can’t tolerate perfume.”

“Yes Miss.” Violet nodded as she jotted down the last of what Fame had asked her. They were leaving the last show of the week, the sun going down as Fame walked towards her car. 

“And what about Monday?”

“Your travel itinerary is printed, packed and ready to go. I even emailed it to Mr. Bertschy.”

“Good.” Fame looked at Violet, her sunglasses perched in her blonde hair, and for a moment, just a moment, it almost seemed like Fame was smiling. 

“That’s all.”

***

Courtney swayed a bit to the music in the crowded club. It was Saturday: New York Fashion Week was officially over, and on Monday, her boss was flying to Europe for three weeks. Three amazing weeks where she wouldn’t have to run around like a maniac fetching coffee or jumping up in fear every time she heard footsteps or trying to read her mind while on the receiving end of a withering glare. 

“Uh oh…” 

“What?” Courtney asked, seeing Willam’s furrowed brow. 

“Four o’clock. Someone better call the wedgie police, because...yikes.” 

Courtney giggled, turning her gaze in the direction Willam gestured and then immediately covering her face. 

“Oh god, that looks  _ painful! _ ” 

“I bet she’s bleeding.”

Courtney laughed harder. She’d been having a surprisingly good time with Willam; in spite of her apprehension about him, it wasn’t awkward at all. She felt comfortable, almost like she was with one of her girlfriends. He was funny and charming and when she said she was thinking about going vegan, didn’t make an annoyed face. He simply took out his phone and searched for the best vegan restaurants in the neighborhood. 

He’d treated her to a pretty good dinner, where he’d again listened kindly while she vented about work, and then they’d made the short walk to the club, where Sólseturstríðsmenn was about to perform. 

The best thing about Willam so far, though, was that he was such a perfect gentleman. He wasn’t trying to get her drunk, or getting handsy like most guys. He was treating her like a person, which Courtney supposed shouldn’t have been such a brand new experience on a date, but here she was. 

“So, I know you said that you’re a lightweight, but I’m gonna grab another drink. You want one?” 

“Um...yeah, okay,” Courtney said with a smile. “Why not?” 

As he headed towards the bar, Courtney watched him closely, trying to gauge her attraction. As different as he was from the boys she’d dated in the past, there was something oddly compelling about him. She found her eyes drifting down to his ass--which wasn’t flat like most guys, but rounded, almost peachy, and Courtney wondered what it would feel like to just grab ahold of it. She looked away quickly, her cheeks growing hot. 

She wondered if he would try to kiss her tonight. She didn’t love the idea of a beard against her face, but he did have full, soft lips, and maybe it would be nice. Maybe she  _ did _ like Willam. Wouldn’t it be crazy to date a boy who didn’t make her sigh with irritation when his name came up on the caller ID? 

When he returned with the drinks, she accepted hers gratefully and beamed up at him. 

“What?” he asked, those pretty blue eyes looking at her with amused curiosity. 

“I was just thinking about what a good time I’m having,” said Courtney. 

“Why do you sound so surprised?” he laughed. “I’m a very fucking good time.” 

Courtney gave a cute shrug, then giggled, taking his arm and leaning a head on his shoulder. Maybe she should have tried dating a guy who wasn’t an absolute dickhead much sooner. 

***

“You’re such a brat,” Pearl laughed, sipping a beer as she watched Trixie stuff clothes into his suitcase, pouting the whole time. 

He had really hoped to avoid Europe this year, or at least be able to cut his trip short. But instead, Fame had decided that it was important for the whole senior creative team to be there the entire time, to absorb the inspiration. As if he couldn't get all the inspiration he needed right here in New York. 

Trixie looked up at Pearl with a scowl. 

“Don’t you have your own packing to do?” he asked. 

“It takes me exactly 4 minutes to pack,” Pearl told him, a smirk on her face. “When you’re this perfect, everything looks good together.”

“All black everything helps too.”

“I have whites.”

“Whatever.” Trixie rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t know why you’re pouting, man. It’s three weeks in Europe, paid for by the company. Partying on someone else’s dime.” Pearl flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “It’s the dream.” 

“I don’t  _ like  _ partying.” 

“You used to like partying,” Pearl said, adding, “You used to be cool.” 

“Well, I guess I’m just not cool anymore!” Trixie snapped, just as Katya appeared in the doorway. 

“Of course you’re cool, baby,” she cooed. “The coolest cat in the joint.” 

Pearl burst out laughing, and Trixie crossed his arms. 

“Are you mocking me now, too?” 

“Nooo, never!” Katya dropped down to her knees beside him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “And just to show you how great I think you are, I’m making a special lunch just for you.” 

“Oh yeah?” Trixie asked, suddenly interested. 

“Uh huh…” Katya rubbed his back. “Now, I’ve never tasted this regional delicacy myself, but I have it on good authority that it’s one of your very favorites. It’s called ‘Tater Tot Hotdish.’” 

“What? Tater Tot Hotdish? Seriously?” Trixie clapped his hands excitedly. 

“Yes, baby, and I made enough for you to take a big old portion with you on the place tomorrow.” 

“God, you’re the absolute  _ best _ ,” Trixie said, taking Katya’s face in his hands and laying a kiss on her. “I’m gonna miss you so much.” 

“Aww, I’ll miss you too, along with the goods.” Katya squeezed his ass, giggling. 

Trixie pulled back to study her face. She seemed normal, but he’d noticed her getting up early lately, meeting one of her friends from rehab in the mornings before work. They’d been together long enough for him to know that these things came in cycles, and getting some extra support was nothing to panic over, but with both him and Pearl leaving town at the same time, he couldn’t help but worry. 

“Are you gonna be okay while we’re gone? Really?” 

“Of course I am, sugarbutt.” Katya gave him one of her signature 1000-watt smiles. “Now, excuse me, I need to go check on your tots.”

He watched her go, still not entirely convinced. Maybe it would be a good idea for someone to check on her while he was away. Someone responsible and trustworthy...

***

Violet saw her work phone vibrate out of the corner of her eye, her screen lighting up. She tried to read it, tried to make out who had contacted her, when she was pulled out of her thoughts.

“Am I not entertaining enough?”

Violet turned to look, Sutan’s warm voice loud and clear, a smirk on his lips. They were eating breakfast at a cafe near his apartment, a plate of half eaten avocado on rye in front of her, while Sutan had opted for waffles and scrambled eggs.

“Of course.”

It had been Violet’s idea to meet up for breakfast before Sutan had to leave. She had meant to come over, had meant to spend more time with him, but the week had flown by, and suddenly it had passed without the two of them actually seeing each other. 

“I just need-” Violet bit her lip and titled her phone, surprise hitting her when she saw that Trixie was the one who had texted. “Oh. I have to-”

“Lovely eyes-” Violet looked at him again, Sutan’s elbow leaning on the table, his fingers around a steaming hot cup of coffee. “What could possibly be more important than me?”

“Work.”

“Ow.” Sutan laughed, holding a hand to his heart, and Violet felt a surge of embarrassment crash over her.

“Sorry,” Violet hadn’t meant to be so blunt, hadn’t meant to dismiss him so harshly, “I didn’t-”

Her phone vibrated again, and Violet saw that she had gotten a second message from Trixie. 

“I have to-”

“Ignore me if you must,” Sutan was clearly entertained by it, his tone teasing, “but know that I’m not usually treated like this Miss Chachki.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Violet opened the texts, quickly scanning them. 

_ TRIXIE: Hi Violet. I was wondering if you could do me a favor? While I’m in Europe, do you mind checking in on Katya? _

_ TRIXIE: Just once or twice if you have time. _

Violet bit her lip. She considered Katya someone she liked, maybe even a friend if the blonde agreed, but she wasn’t sure and that she was close enough to check in on her, whatever that meant.

_ TRIXIE: You could bring her dinner? She likes chinese. _

“So,” Sutan titled his head, his foot on tapping against her shin. “Is it important?” 

Sutan’s voice was still warm, his tone still light, but Violet didn’t want to push him any further, didn’t want to risk him getting annoyed or tired. Violet flipped her phone, turning the screen to the table. “It’s not an emergency.”

“Good,” Sutan chuckled, and Violet felt her stomach do a flip, the man stupidly attractive when he was laughing, his dark eyes ones she swore she could drown in. “I was worried for a minute that Fame had remembered she was flying tomorrow.”

“Ah,” Violet hid a smile behind her teacup.

“I’m just happy that I’m on an entirely different flight.”

She had never seen Fame on a plane, but she had heard first hand experiences from senior staff who had been with her, and had even helped her prepare more than once.

“Speaking about phones though-” Sutan smirked.

“We weren’t-“

“I looked for you on Instagram.”

Violet raised an eyebrow, her food still forgotten on her plate. “Why?”

“Because I enjoy your company?” Sutan chuckled, and Violet realized that she was being unnecessarily harsh once again, but she didn’t like that Sutan had gone looking for information about her, her chest tightening. “I couldn’t find you, do you have a nickname or somethi-”

“I don’t have an account.”

“Violet,” Sutan leaned back in his chair, “Just because I wasn’t upset about the assistant thing doesn’t mean I’m okay with you lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Please.” Sutan rolled his eyes, actually sounding annoyed now. “Why wouldn’t you-“

“I don’t use social media.” Violet ran her fingers through her hair, looking directly at Sutan. “I don’t have time.”

She wasn’t lying. When everyone else had jumped on the social media train, Violet had been busy, so she had never gotten on Myspace or Twitter or Instagram or whatever else people had profiles on. When Violet applied to Parsons, she had even deactivated the Facebook her mom had made her make when she moved to New York, the decision almost making itself.

Her lack of social media was one of the reasons she became friends with Pearl, the blonde absolutely fascinated by the fact that the only way she could reach Violet was by email or text. 

She wasn’t unaware of the online world, Pearl keeping her in the loop of trends, and she sometimes used the office computer to look at pugs on Youtube, but all in all, Violet simply wasn’t interested in creating her own content.

“Do you promise?”

Violet was happy with being anonymous, was very happy that she didn’t exist online, and she intended to keep it that way for as long as she possibly could.

“I promise,” Violet nodded, leaning over the table to give Sutan a quick, closed mouthed kiss.

***

“Darling,” Fame tightened her grip, the fabric of Patrick’s jacket between her fingers. The hustle and bustle of the airport was all around them, and Fame wished she could disappear. “Look at me.”

Fame huffed, turning her head and nuzzling further into Patrick’s neck. 

“I know you’re upset-” Patrick ran a hand up her back.

To say that she was upset was an understatement. In fact, she was livid, anxiety and anger like a storm inside of her. She knew it wasn’t fair, knew she was being a child, but she didn’t want to fly without Patrick, didn’t want to risk her life without her husband at her side. 

She had asked him to come along, had been ready to beg, but Patrick had work, had his own company to run, and it wasn’t fair of Fame to expect him to get on a transAtlantic flight with her, just so she didn’t have to do it alone.

“You’ll be fine.”

Fame sighed, the scent of Patrick filling her nose. They were waiting for Raja and Raven, Raja ready to take her hand and not let go until they touched down in London.

Fame knew that Raven hated it, but she could live with the stink eyes and Raven’s pouting if it meant that she had one of the few people she trusted by her side the entire time she was off the ground.

***

Courtney typed at lightning speed, adding the last three messages into Miss Fame’s phonesheet, then clicked back over to continue checking her emails. 

Since most of the senior executives were on a plane to London, she had been expecting a chill morning, but it was the exact opposite: the phone was ringing off the hook: press requests for interviews and to borrow pieces of the collection, invitations, buyers, influencers. Not to mention the flurry of activity within the company to get the ready to wear versions of the Spring line into stores. Courtney could barely read one email before three more came in, she and Violet in constant communication as they made sure nothing slipped through the cracks. 

The one saving grace was that apparently, it was tradition for things around the office to get much more casual while Fame and the others were away, and so she was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a cute Lululemon top. 

The clothes were such a huge bonus that Courtney didn’t even mind that Violet had sent her to marketing three times: running up and down the stairs in sneakers was a hell of a lot nicer than doing it in heels. 

Courtney was almost finished catching up on her emails when Violet stood up. 

“I’m getting a cup of tea, do you want anything?” 

Courtney looked up with a smile, thrilled that she and Violet were getting along so well today. Although the frenzied activity was a bit overwhelming for her, Violet seemed to thrive in it, and thus her patience had increased about two thousand percent. 

“Um, I’ll take coconut water, if we have any. Thanks,” Courtney said, and Violet nodded, ducking into the kitchen. 

The phone rang once again, and Courtney answered it, picking up her notepad and a pen. “Miss Fame’s office…” 

_ “Hi, Bianca Del Rio for Fame.”  _

“I’m sorry, she’s unavailable right now, may I take a message?” Courtney asked sweetly. She couldn’t help wondering if Bianca might possibly recognize her voice, and found her cheeks coloring slightly at the thought. 

_ “Oh shit. She’s on the plane to London now, huh?”  _

“Umm…” Courtney knew that she wasn’t supposed to reveal exactly where Fame was, but it was one of her closest friends, so maybe it would be okay. She settled on a slightly evasive, “...Possibly.” 

Bianca laughed.  _ “Very good work, Courtney. Protecting your boss’s privacy. I love it.”  _

“I do my best,” Courtney said, trying to suppress the grin she couldn’t seem to help whenever Bianca paid her a compliment. She wasn’t sure why, though, since Bianca obviously couldn’t see her, but even so… “Did you want to leave a message?” 

_ “Nah...I’ll just text her,” _ Bianca said.  _ “Bye, Courtney. Have a good day.”  _

“Bye, Bianca. You too.” Courtney hung up, just as Violet’s head appeared in the doorway, irritation all over her face. 

“That better not have been Bianca Del Rio,” Violet said, a hand on her hip. 

“Umm…”

“Courtney! We’ve been over this. You need to show people more respect. She’s the editor-in-chief of Marie-Claire, for god’s sake!” 

“I know, but I…” Courtney trailed off, biting her lip. She wasn’t sure how to explain to Violet how  _ wrong _ it would’ve felt to address Bianca as ‘Ms. Del Rio’ like she was supposed to. It was so stiff and formal, and their relationship felt much more casual than that. Courtney blushed, realizing that even the word ‘relationship’ was an overstatement. She was probably just being stupid, should probably just listen to Violet and shut up. “I’m sorry, I’ll remember next time.”

“You better,” Violet said. “Because if Miss Fame had heard that, she would’ve been  _ livid _ .” 

Courtney nodded, and Violet seemed satisfied with that, handing over the bottle of coconut water. 

***

In the nearly four years that Ivy had worked for Raja, she’d lost count of the number of times people expressed amazement that the infamous “Dragon Lady” had managed to hold onto an assistant for so long. 

In spite of Raja’s deserved reputation for being tough, Ivy felt immensely lucky to be working for her. For one thing, she was smart and insanely talented. And while she was by no means soft or low maintenance, Ivy always found her to be fair--even generous, when the situation warranted it. And the fact that she respected Ivy so much, often asking her for her opinions and consulting with her about important decisions, meant a lot--as did the trust she put in her to handle many things on her own. They had a system, and it worked for both of them. 

But all that said, Ivy still enjoyed the few times a year when her boss was out of town. For one thing, it was nice to be more in control of her own schedule, and for another, it gave her the opportunity to work on one of her absolute favorite tasks: organizing the deep storage in one of their downstairs warehouses. 

The styling closet next to Raja’s office was relatively easy to keep up with. Sure, it got a little messy at times, but if she stayed late or came in early every few weeks, she could manage. But the warehouse was another animal entirely. It often became the dumping ground for everything from design, referred to with nicknames like the Bermuda Triangle and the Couture Graveyard. 

It was Ivy’s job to keep everything neat and labeled, and with how rare it was for her to get large amounts of time to handle it, this was no small feat. Right now, her task was to meticulously label and store every piece from the runway show, and to update her system to track the loans. She always felt a little bad about the cast-offs. In the past, they saved every garment, even the ones that were not approved, usually all smushed together in one extra-large garment bag--but this collection had about 10 times the amount of these little orphaned pieces as usual. 

The three weeks of European Fashion Week were truly the greatest; all of senior management was gone, which meant that the support staff could wear whatever they wanted to the office. Ivy was personally dressed in something she would never get caught dead in with Raja in the office, but sneakers and jeans were perfect for dancing along to Taylor Swift and moving heavy boxes as she got down to the nitty gritty of cleaning the warehouse.

  
  



	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: NY Fashion Week ended, and the team moved on to London.  
> This Chapter: London Fashion Week brings friends together, both there and back home in New York, where Adore continues to pine over Pearl and both Violet and Sutan fret about being forgotten.

Violet knocked on the door to Katya and Trixie’s apartment, waiting for a response. She’d just gotten home from work, and even though she was tired, she needed to keep her promise to Trixie to check on Katya. 

“Katya?” 

Violet knocked again, and felt stupid. She reached into her pocket, careful not to let the cartons of Chinese food she was carrying tip over, and fished out her phone. 

Violet’s fingers hovered over the keys, not sure what she should write, or even who she should write to. She felt like she had to tell Trixie that she had come by, but that Katya wasn’t home, but she didn’t know if two knocks was enough of an effort between friends - if she was doing what she was supposed to. 

Violet bit her lip, and she was just about to give up, to just put the food by the door, send Katya a text and ignore her responsibility to Trixie, when the blonde in question came bouncing up the stairs.

“Violet!” Katya smiled brightly. She was wearing a berry pink windbreaker and a neon green skirt, her hair half up in a blue scrunchie, a small set of what looked like doll hands dangling from her ears. 

“Katya, hi!” Violet quickly put her phone in her handbag, the bag of take-out dangling awkwardly from her wrist. “I was wondering if, I, umh, if you wanted-”

“Trixie asked you to keep an eye on me, didn’t he?” Katya asked, unlocking the door to the apartment and beckoning for Violet to follow her inside.

“No! I just wanted to… to, to-” Violet was pretty sure she had to deny, that it was friend code to keep secrets like this, but as she shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, unable to come up with anything, she knew she couldn’t keep up the charade. “He did. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Katya smiled, waving her hand. “You can tell him I’m fine.” Katya grabbed the food, putting both that and her bags down on the counter and turned back to Violet, another big smile on her face, perfect teeth shining. 

“That’s great. I-” Violet stopped, actually looking at Katya. The blonde’s smile wavered slightly, hardly detectable, but her blue eyes were puffy and rimmed with red. Had she been crying? “Katya...are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah!” Katya’s lip trembled, voice breaking slightly, and Violet was sure she was about to cry.

Normally, Violet felt uncomfortable around any and all displays of emotion, unsure what to do, uncertain about what the correct response was if she didn’t know the person intimately, but there was something about Katya that made that worry disappear completely.

Katya was so kind, always taking care of everyone around her: Trixie, Pearl, the neighbors, her students and even Violet herself.

“I don’t want to presume, but, if you’re not okay-” Violet waited a beat, lowering her voice slightly, “I hope you know that that’s okay.”

“I’m okay, it’s just-” Katya walked into the living room, sitting down on the couch, a deep sigh leaving her, Violet right behind her. “It’s been pretty rough.”

“Is it because-” Violet swifted, the situation oddly intimate. “Because Trixie is gone?”

“Trixie’s gone, Pearl’s gone, Max is gone, Shangie’s at her girlfriend’s place, Kim’s working late all week before she goes out of town, too…” Katya sniffled, wiping her eyes, and Violet felt a surge of worry, her hand reaching out and touching Katya’s knee, the blond knitting their fingers together. “Sorry.”

“You can talk.”

“I know it’s just a few weeks, and I’m being a huge baby,” Katya rolled her eyes, wiping at them again, and Violet reached into her bag, pulling a handkerchief out. 

“Thanks-” Katya took it, dabbing her eyes. “I just had an extra session with my therapist, and I should be okay, I’ve been sober for forever, but, shit.” Katya snorted. “It’s hard.”

“Do you maybe,” Violet swallowed, “Do you want to umh, watch a movie or something? Your pick.”

“That would be amazing.”

***

“Home sweet home!” Sutan groaned, flopping down on the couch, toeing his shoes off and kicking them to the carpet. 

“You don’t live here.” Karl smiled, bending down to pick them up so he could put them by the door. 

They had met up earlier that night at what had turned out to be an outrageously boring, stuffy, industry party which they promptly ditched. They could have gone to another one, London overflowing with options during Fashion Week, but instead, they ended up at the pub, just the two of them, drinking beer and catching up. 

Now, hours later, Sutan had insisted on coming back to Karl’s apartment with him instead of his hotel, and apparently wanted to keep the party going. 

Not that Karl minded in the least. 

“Sure mom-“ Sutan burped, holding his hand in front his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Tell me if you have to puke!” 

“Mmh-”

Karl rolled his eyes, when he heard a small groan.

“Fuck...” 

“Sutan?” Karl waited for a beat. “You okay?” Karl looked over, the other man’s phone in his hand, his brow furrowed.

Sutan was adorably disheveled, his black suit jacket crumbled, the blue shirt twisted around his middle, his tie over his shoulder.

“She still hasn’t texted me back,” Sutan grumbled, running a quick hand over his face before he dumped his phone, reaching up to loosen his tie. 

“Who hasn’t texted-“

“Got any beer?” Sutan smiled, the man stupidly charming even while drunk 

“Maybe. I’ll check the fridge,” Karl chuckled, walking towards the kitchen. 

He loved spending time with Sutan--in fact, there’d been a time in his life when he would have dropped anything any time Sutan so much as glanced his way.

It had been the dumbest but most exhilarating years of his twenties, back when he had hung on Sutan’s every word, when he followed him everywhere like a loyal puppy, when he would have done anything and said everything to get his attention.

In the beginning, Karl had allowed himself to cling to the foolish hope that his friend would some day reciprocate his feelings, that Sutan would look at him and realize that he had all he needed had been by his side the entire time.

There had been a few kisses, here and there, but they had always happened during parties where heavy drinking and hard drugs were involved, and it was nothing they ever talked about sober. 

Karl grabbed a bowl, filling it with chips before he got a couple of beers from the fridge, making his way back to his friend.

The sad fact of the matter was that Sutan, in spite of being incredibly chill and a little bit flexible, was actually depressingly straight. 

Which was why Karl now lived in London. 

He handed over a can of Pilsner, and slid down onto the couch beside Sutan. 

“You’re the best-” Sutan smiled, leaning against his side, taking a sip from his can.

“So…” Karl bit his lip, Sutan smelling of sandalwood and man. “Who is she? Another socialite?“

“Who?”

“The girl you’re texting.”

“Ah.” Sutan looked up, his head resting on Karl’s shoulder. “No.”

Normally, Sutan didn’t mind sharing his conquests, the man an absolute idiot when it came to picking up clues, so he had never noticed how uncomfortable it made Karl, but this time, he was being uncharacteristically quiet about his new mystery woman, which made Karl even more suspicious.

“Is she a model?”

“No!” Sutan gasped, pulling back and sitting up. “Of course not!” 

He actually looked offended, and Karl couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Come on man,” Sutan clapped his knee, his palm warm. “Who do you think I am? It’s against The Rule.”

“Well,” Karl shrugged, “Rules were made to be broken,” he said with a mischievous grin. It was something everyone knew about Sutan, that he never ever ever dated models. Karl would never have guessed that it would have given his friend an edge, but models seemed to truly trust him, Sutan somehow managing a calm and kind friend of the family vibe that Karl simply couldn’t replicate, nevermind the fact that he was literally gay. 

“She’s not a model.” Sutan settled back down, this time leaning against the armrest of the couch. “She’s…” Sutan sighed. “She’s ignoring me.” 

Karl couldn’t help but feel a twinge of resentment. Sutan looked genuinely distressed, and now that he thought about it, he had seen Sutan check his phone more than usual. 

“Really?”

Did she not know what an amazing guy she had? Karl doubted it. 

“I haven’t heard from her since yesterday.”

“Hmm.” Karl pursed his lips. “Wonder why.” He had learned long ago, even before the disastrous engagement, never to actively insult or give his true opinion on the women in Sutan’s life until after they were well out of it.

Not that they ever stuck around for long, the demands of Sutan’s job, his friends and his family always too much for them.

“I just don’t understand.” Sutan whined, the man always a little over-dramatic while drunk. “I’m a catch, right? Karl, be honest.” 

“You’re adequate.”

“Karrrl…” Sutan groaned, grabbing his elbow to shake it. Karl’s smile would have broken through had the buzzer not rang just that moment with their perfect, greasy, midnight fast food delivery. 

“Food’s here!” Karl jumped up, slapping Sutan’s shoulder in the process. 

***

“...and like, he’s just so _nice_. Did I tell you that he texts me every morning just to say good morning and every night to ask how my day went?” 

“Yup, you did,” Adore said. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and she was sprawled on her bed with her guitar, plucking out random melodies, while Courtney waxed poetic about her perfect new boyfriend and how wonderful and attentive and funny he was. 

Adore knew that she wasn’t intentionally rubbing it in, but it still stung. She’d slept with Pearl over a week ago, and hadn’t gotten so much as a single text, whereas Courtney had already been out with Willam twice and apparently texted every day. 

“Well, anyway…” Courtney trailed off, climbing over to Adore. “I guess I’ve been rambling, huh?” 

“A little,” Adore said, looking over at her with a rueful smile. “But it’s cool. He sounds great, and you deserve it.” 

“Thanks,” Courtney said, curling up beside her. “The only weird thing is…We still haven’t…” 

“Fucked?” 

“Well, yeah, but-” 

“That’s not that weird,” Adore said. “You’ve been on what, two dates? He’s probably just used to girls who aren’t as...giving as you.” 

Adore reached over to pat Courtney on the head. 

“Ha ha. And yeah, that’s true. But we haven’t even...kissed, really.” 

“You haven’t _kissed?!_ ” Adore asked. 

“No, I mean, we’ve kissed. But we haven’t like... _kissed_ , you know?” 

“I love it when you talk in code,” Adore laughed. 

“It’s just like...not real kisses. It’s like the kind of kisses I’d give my parents. Or my brother. Like this.” Courtney leaned forward to demonstrate, giving Adore a quick, dry peck on the lips. 

“You kiss your brother on the mouth?!” Adore exclaimed, eyes wide with horror. 

“You don’t kiss your siblings?” 

“Not on the mouth!” 

“So you’ve never kissed, um, Bianca, on the mouth?” Courtney asked, a bit of pink creeping into her cheeks. 

“With the filthy places her mouth has been?! Hell fucking no.” 

Courtney laughed, hugging a pillow to her chest, cheeks now blazing red. “Okay, well, I think we’re getting sidetracked. The point is...I like Willam. But I don’t know...” 

“I guess. But, maybe he’s just shy.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe…” Courtney sighed. “What about you?” 

“What _about_ me? I’m definitely not shy.” 

“No, I mean, any new developments in your love life?” Courtney asked carefully, as if there would be anything she didn’t already know. 

Adore could tell that as supportive as Courtney was, she was a bit reticent to get fully onboard the Pearl Liaison train. She’s been dropping little hints here and there about Pearl being a player--hints which Adore had ignored. It wasn’t that she didn’t know about Pearl’s reputation. It’s that she didn’t fucking care. 

Pearl was amazing in bed, cool and funny, and incredibly sexy, and Adore was prepared to have her heart ripped out of her chest. 

If only she could get a second date. 

“Ugh, no.” Adore sat up, setting her guitar aside with a groan. “I’m a fucking disaster as usual. Pearl still hasn’t called.” 

“Well...she is traveling right now. Maybe she’s just really busy,” Courtney said, and Adore smiled, appreciating her attempt, however small, to defend Adore’s ridiculous infatuation. 

“Yeah, maybe. But Bianca calls me whenever she goes abroad, even when she goes somewhere stupid like Japan, or like… Siberia or something.”

“I’m pretty sure your sister has never been to Siberia,” Courtney laughed. 

“You don’t know her.”

“True…” Courtney bit her lip, then added, “I kind of wish I did, though.” 

Adore tilted her head, looking at her curiously. Of course, her sister was one of her favorite people on the planet, and had been for as far back as she could remember. So hearing that her bestie liked her probably shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. She seems cool.” Courtney picked at the comforter. 

“Well, of course she’s cool. She’s related to me,” Adore said, and Courtney grinned. 

“Exactly!” 

“Annnnd...she’s having this big birthday party next month. Some crazy-ass, fancy thing at the Guggenheim. You should come, be my date.” 

“Oh, I don’t...I don’t know, Adore.” 

“Why not?!” 

“Well...won’t like, my bosses all be there? It’s a little weird.” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Adore said. “But listen, it’ll be a huge crowd. And if you come, Bianca will give me so much less shit than usual, since she actually likes you.” 

Courtney’s eyes widened. “She does? Did she say that?” 

“No, but I would definitely know if she didn’t,” Adore assured her. “You know Laila? She hasn’t seen her for years, but she still calls her ‘that garbage-faced slut.’” 

Courtney burst out laughing, asking cheekily, “Is she wrong?” 

“Hey!” Adore hit Courtney in the face with a pillow, knocking her onto her back. “Be nice!” 

***

Violet groaned, taking a step back from the window. She bit her lip, flipping through the pictures she had just taken of herself on her phone. 

Sutan had asked what she was wearing in a text, and while Violet normally hated getting her picture taken, and never took selfies in any shape or form, she was doing her best to attempt just that.

If anyone else had asked, Violet would have shut it down instantly, but even though Sutan had sent along a winky face, the text didn’t read to her as something sexual, the message more a joke than a serious request to see her in her underwear--or even worse, naked.

Violet wanted to make Sutan happy, wanted to play along with his game, but as she looked at the photos, she cringed; she had no idea how models, influencers or even normal people made taking pictures seem so easy.

She sighed, getting back in position in front of the window, Max always telling her how important light was for a good photo. It felt wrong to be standing in Fame’s office, but she wasn’t touching anything, the background only a crisp white carpet.

Violet thought that it had been hard having an almost boyfriend during Fashion Week, but what she had not expected was how Sutan being abroad felt about a million times worse, the fact that he was now in Milan and not London not making it any better at all.

She wasn’t a texter by nature, the fact that Sutan had messaged her not even crossing her mind for the first 48 hours. They had talked on the phone, and texted back and forth, but it wasn’t the same and she missed him. She missed Sutan, longed to see his smile and hear his voice, a phone call or even Facetime not the same at all. 

She missed feeling his hands on her body, his weight on top of hers. 

Violet pulled her hair over her shoulder, twisted her shoulder, lifting her phone, ready to try again, when she spotted something in the corner of the screen.

Courtney was leaning against the doorframe, an infuriating smile on her face.

“Shit!” Violet jumped, dropping her phone before she whirled around. “I wasn’t-” Violet held up her hand, her stomach tight with embarrassment. “This, it’s, I- Don’t tell anyone. Please”

“As if,” Courtney's annoying grin deepened. "You don't have to be embarrassed, Vi.”

Violet almost opened her mouth to reprimand her, the other again acting way too familiar for Violet’s comfort, when she continued talking.

“It's not like you had your top off."

"What-” Violet could feel her cheeks heat up, her entire face going red. “I'd never-” Violet left Fame’s office, closing the door behind her. “Don’t say that.”

"Never?” Courtney giggled, skipping forward to perch on the edge of Violet's desk. “Why not?"

"That's not-” Violet wanted to say that it wasn’t any of Courtney’s business, that she should watch her attitude, but the other looked genuinely interested, like she actually cared about the why. “I don't have that kind of body." 

“Please,” Courtney scoffed. "You have an amazing body, what are you talking about?"

"I'm not very-" Violet wasn’t sure if she wanted to say the word. She knew she wasn't hideous, that she could dress herself, that she was pretty if you were into her type, which Sutan thankfully was. "Very sexy."

Courtney looked genuinely confused, and Violet almost wanted to sigh. 

Of course she didn’t understand her; Violet wasn’t sure why she thought, even for a second, that she would. 

Everything about Courtney was dainty and feminine and all the things that a girl was supposed to be. From the way she walked to the way she dressed to the way she sat on the edge of Violet’s desk with her legs crossed coyly.

Everything about Courtney screamed that she was hot, fun, flirty, and knew it. She hadn’t even batted an eye when those suits drooled all over her in the cafeteria; she’d probably been told she was beautiful every day she’d been alive. 

"Violet…” Courtney smiled, something that looked disgustingly like pity in her gaze. “I really hate to be the one to break this to you. I mean, someone probably should have already told you, like a long time ago, but…you're really hot." Courtney grinned playfully, twirling her hair. "Like, really really, really hot."

Violet almost snorted. She had been called pretty, beautiful, Sutan often telling her she was gorgeous or lovely, her style most often described as elegant and classy, but being called hot, and even really hot, was not something she’d experienced.

"Thanks." Violet bent down to pick up her phone. "I'll keep that in mind." Part of her wanted to forget the whole selfie business, to not even attempt it again, but Sutan deserved it, and she wanted to do something for him. 

“Let me know if you change your mind about the topless thing. I have a lot of experience in that area,” Courtney said. 

“What-” Violet’s head snapped up, horror all over her face. “Get off my desk!” 

“Sorry.” Courtney slid down with a giggle. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Long-distance brought challenges to many of our couples. 
> 
> This Chapter: In Milan, Trixie agonizes over being apart from Katya. But back home in New York, she’s finding support in Violet’s friendship — at least until Miss Fame throws a wrench in their plans. Elsewhere, Willam continues to work his charms, Adore gets an invitation she can’t refuse and Alaska learns some upsetting news.

“Guess who just got an extra round of shots because the bartender thought he had a chance? Me! 1 - 0 for the lesbian.” Pearl laughed as she dumped down next to Trixie, handing her friend a beer as she balanced her tray of free shots in her other hand.

“I love Italians. They’ll literally give you anything you want as long as you’ve got a pair of tits and a smile.”

Trixie looked at Pearl before he sighed and accepted the beer, his phone in his hand. He had been trying to call Katya all day, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t get a hold of her beyond a few quick texts. He was just about to dial her number again when he felt a poke in his stomach.

“Ouch! Pearl, what the fuck?”

“Stop looking so sad! It’s contagious and you’re not allowed to be sad during Fashion Week, so how about you turn that frown upside down, we slam these and I’ll score us some free hotdogs on the way home!”

Pearl smiled, her entire face lit up as her eyebrows wiggled, her good mood making Trixie feel a little better.

“I don’t think they have hotdogs in Milan, Pearlie Girl.”

“Well, then pizza! Gelato! Whatever! Now put that phone away and take a shot with me like a man!”

Pearl was just about to grab the phone from Trixie’s hand, but he stopped her, a serious expression on his face.

“Katya hasn’t responded to any of my calls.”

“Well, if you’re so worried, just ask Violet? She’s such a control freak she probably has a written record of Katya’s last three meals and her sleep schedule.” Pearl leaned back in her chair, taking a long swig from her wine, people all around them moving back and forth, coming and going, but to Pearl they didn’t matter. 

All that mattered was that Trixie wasn’t going to party with her, and that wasn’t fair.

“Why are you always so mean to her, Pearlie?”

“I’m not mean, I’m perfectly reasonable.”

“If you say so.” Trixie sighed and crossed his arms, finally taking his first swig of the beer Pearl had gotten for him.

“Katya and I have never gone this long without talking. I haven’t heard from her in almost 24 hours.”

“Bro, let it go.” Pearl sighed, pulling a bit of her hair over her shoulder. “Katya is probably fine; you worry too much.”

“Tell that to my stomach.”

Pearl leaned over, a mischievous smile on her face before she placed both hands on Trixie’s tummy, talking to it as if he was a pregnant woman as she adopted a high-pitched baby voice.

“Hey sweetie, I know you’re confused right now, but don’t worry, you don’t have to worry about your mommy one bit, Auntie Pearl is right here ready to take care of you, and I know exactly what you need, which, is, shoooooots!”

Pearl sat up again, laughing hard when she saw the unhappy scowl on Trixie’s face.

“You’re the worst, Pearl, you know that, right?”

“The absolute worst.”

***

Trixie was in his hotel room, silently cursing Pearl as the blonde was off getting laid, the European chicks absolutely loving her. Trixie however really needed a bro since he couldn’t get out of his clothes, too drunk for his hands to work properly, even if he had fought his way out of his shirt.

Fashion Week was like an endless party, and he couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t been at least mildly buzzed or had gotten more than six hours of sleep.

Trixie was battling with getting out of his shoes, his pants already around his ankles as he heard his phone ring and he jumped for it right away, falling onto the bed and swiping right to pick up the call.

“Please be Katya, please be Katya, please be Katya!”

Trixie hadn’t realized he had said any of it out loud, until he heard Katya’s laugh on the other end of the phone, almost making him cry.

“Katya, oh God, it’s really you, I love you so much, please I want to grow old with you and get weird and wrinkly.”

“Are you drunk, baby?”

“Maybe a little.” Trixie looked down at himself: there were stains of pizza sauce on his stomach, and his pants were still around his legs, making it hard for him to move. “But none of that matters because now I’m talking to you! I miss you sooooooo much!”

“I miss you too, I’m sorry I haven’t called…”

“How are you? Are your students okay? How are you, how are you, how are you?”

Trixie was excitedly waiting for Katya’s reply, ready to hear all about how the most important person in his life was doing, but then there was nothing on the other end and Trixie had to check if his phone was actually on.

“Katya? Are you okay? Like… For reals?”

“I...I really fucked up last night,” Katya said, voice small and soft. 

“What do you mean?” Trixie asked. “Are you okay?” 

“I just...I really wanted a drink, and I thought Pearl might have something, and so I went into her room and I basically tore everything apart looking for a bottle-” 

Trixie froze, his heart stopping at Katya’s words.

“I’m coming home right now.”

Trixie was already standing up, fighting with his pants, trying to get them on and then instead stepping out of them, grabbing his backpack, not caring that he was only wearing his underpants and his socks.

“No! Trix! Trix! Please wait.”

“No! I can’t wait! I have to come home!”

“Trixie, please, baby, listen! I didn’t find anything, okay? And like, after a couple of minutes, I was standing in the middle of this fucking mess, holding Pearl’s Hitachi in my hand, digging through her bottom drawer, and I realized how crazy I must have looked.” She let out a dry chuckle. 

“That’s not funny.” 

“It’s a little funny. And anyway, I’m okay. I saw Sasha after school today, and then I came home and cleaned everything up. I’m sorry for making you worry...”

Trixie stopped, listening to Katya’s words. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay… I promise. I talked to Violet, and we’re gonna have a slumber party this week, so don’t worry. You don’t have to come home, everything is fine.”

Trixie fell back into bed, the sudden burst of energy only making him more nauseous, the entire room spinning.

“What did Sasha say?” Trixie liked Katya’s therapist. She was calm and warm and extremely perceptive, with a lovely sense of humor. If she thought Katya was okay, then he’d feel a hell of a lot better.

“She thinks that I’m being too hard on myself, and that I just need to try and relax. Which is what I’m doing now. I’m in the bathtub.”

“So...then you’re really okay?” asked Trixie. 

“I’m really okay.” 

“And you’ll tell me if you’re not?” 

“I’ll tell you if I’m not,” Katya echoed. 

“Promise?” Trixie asked, sniffling. 

“I promise. I love you, baby.” 

“I love you too. So, so much.” 

***

“So...you gonna tell me why you’ve been pouting all night?” Bianca asked, reaching across the table to stab a penne off Adore’s plate.

“I am not!” Adore said, mouth turning down even more as she screwed up her face. 

“Are too,” Bianca said, imitating her childish tone. “What gives?” 

Adore scoffed, pushing the pasta around on her plate, making trails of vodka sauce. 

“Well…”

“Out with it! Time is money!” Bianca barked. 

“Oh sorry, do you have another appointment after this?” Adore asked, taking a big swig of her wine. 

“As a matter of fact…” Bianca grinned wickedly, dimples deep in her cheeks. 

“That Derrick girl again?” 

“No, that’s over,” Bianca said, taking a bite of her salad. “But I met someone at the Michael Kors show, and she’s coming over later.” 

The girl from the MK show was a stunning model who she’d previously featured in a couple of editorials for the magazine. A very resourceful young lady, who’d been all too happy to express her gratitude in the back of Bianca’s limo after the reception. But Adore didn’t need those details. 

“Ugh, great. I can’t even get a call back, and my big sister’s having late night booty calls.” 

“Don’t beat yourself up, kiddo. I’ve been having late night booty calls since you were in diapers.” 

Adore heaved a big, put-upon sigh. 

“So...who’s not calling you back?” Bianca asked. 

“No one…” 

“Uh-huh.” Bianca took a sip of wine. White, so as not to stain her mouth before the aforementioned booty call. “Anyone I know?” 

“Maybe.” Adore stuffed a piece of garlic bread into her mouth. 

“Are you not telling me because you know I’ll disapprove?” 

“...maybe.” 

Bianca rolled her eyes. "Why can't you date someone who's not an asshole?" 

“She’s not an asshole. At least, I don’t think she is. She’s just busy. She’s in Milan this week, I think.” 

“Eww,” Bianca’s face scrunched up in disgust. “She works in fashion?”

“ _ You _ work in fashion.” 

“Exactly! That’s how I know,” Bianca said. 

“Whatever,” Adore said, face still a stormcloud. 

“Listen...why don’t you come with me to Paris next week? It’ll be fun, and you can meet a sexy French girl to help you forget about whatever bitch is treating you like shit.”

“Are you serious?” Adore asked. 

“Yeah, why not? I mean, when you’re not whining, you’re pretty decent company.” 

“Awww, thanks, B!” Adore scrambled over to Bianca’s side of the booth and threw her arms around her neck. “We’re flying first, right? With lie-flat seats?” 

“Is there any other way to fly?” Bianca replied with a wink.

“I love you, you bougie cunt,” Adore giggled. 

“Shut up and eat your dinner, punk.”

***

“Hey Jinkx?”

“Mmh?”

Alaska smiled at the redhead in front of her. Alaska and Jinkx were in Alaska’s office, the remains of their lunch in a trashcan, two cups of tea on her desk as the two friends sat in Alaska’s plush chairs, the computer playing one of Lily Allen’s first albums.

“Why did the blonde put lipstick on her forehead?”

“Why?” Jinkx cracked an eye open. Alaska was slowly working on filling in the other woman’s eyebrows. Jinkx had texted Alaska that morning, asking her friend if she would help her with her makeup for a theater reception she was going to later that day.

“She was trying to make, up, her mind.”

“Oh my God!”

Alaska wheezed as tears gathered in her eyes at the look of absolute outrage on Jinkx’s face. Jinkx’s anger was always the funniest thing and a true testament to her skills as a pun master, which was why Alaska continued to tease her red-haired friend.

Alaska picked up her brushes again and began to work on Jinkx’s eyes, slowly covering her lids with shades of gold to compliment her warm brown eyes before moving on to liner.

Alaska had always found Jinkx beautiful: she loved the small gap in Jinkx’s front teeth, loved her soft red curls and round cheeks, loved the cute little cleft in Jinkx’s chin that she knew the other woman was incredibly self-conscious about.

Alaska ran a hand down Jinkx’s face, gently caressing the other’s cheek as she waited for the lash glue to get tacky, enjoying how doing the other’s makeup gave her an excuse to touch her. There was a comfortable silence while she worked, touching her up here and there before finally fixing her lashes on. Finally, Alaska drew back, satisfied with the final look. 

“There,” she said. “Absolutely stunning, don’t you think?” 

Jinkx opened her eyes and looked in the mirror she was holding up. When her face broke into a bright smile, Alaska couldn’t help but feel warm all over.

“I look amazing! You’re a genius, Lasky.”

“Don’t mention it!”

“No, do mention it.” Jinkx grabbed Alaska’s hand which made a jolt go through the blonde’s body, Jinkx looking Alaska straight in the eyes.

“You’re a true artist, a great artist.”

Alaska was just about to open her mouth, just about to say what was on her mind, when the door to her office opened, Jinkx released her hand and Alaska felt her heart drop.

“Hey Alaska, are you in here? Kim didn’t know if you were back from your lunch.” 

Alaska looked up to see Ivy peeking in through the door, a big stack of boxes in her hand.

“Oh!” Ivy looked back and forth between the two women, an apologetic smile on her face as soon as she realized she had walked in on something. “I’m sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I’ll just leave these with Kim and call you later!” Ivy flashed one last bright smile before she closed the door behind her.

“Jinkx… There’s something I have to… Jinkx, are you listening to me?”

Jinkx was still looking at the door where Ivy had just left, her face flushed as she was practically staring.

“That… That was her, that was her, the girl I’ve been telling you about, that was the angel from Fashion Week who waved at me! You have to tell me her name!”

Alaska felt her stomach drop all the way to the floor.  _ Fuck. _

***

_ ADORE: Hey _

_ ADORE: Hope ur having fun in Milano.  _

_ ADORE: So, I’m gonna be in Paris next week with my sister. Maybe we can chill  _

_ ADORE: Or, you know, whatever _

_ PEARL: Sounds cool ;) _

Adore clutched the phone to her chest, curled in bed, nearly giddy with happiness. She didn’t care that Pearl was playing a bit hard to get. All she cared about was that they were about to be together for a week in the most romantic city in the world. 

***

“Cheers,” Courtney said, holding up her glass with a grin. 

“Cheers…” Willam clinked his glass with hers. They were sitting together in a cozy booth for a rare mid-week date. Apparently, with Miss Fame in Europe, Courtney was expected to be at the office before dawn, but the upside was that she got to leave a little early in the evenings. 

Willam certainly wasn’t complaining. Playing the doting boyfriend via text was tough--he was constantly second-guessing himself and could never tell how she was responding. He felt better in person, where he could see Courtney’s physical reactions to the things he said. Really putting those improv classes in college to excellent use. 

The good news was, he was pretty damn sure that he had her, hook line and sinker. The way her eyes glittered in the candlelight, the way she slid closer to him, tilting her chin up…

_ Shit.  _

Willam knew that when he came up with this plan, that he’d eventually have to touch a girl. But he was really trying to postpone it as much as possible. 

“Hey!” he exclaimed, making Courtney jump slightly. “I just got a great idea!”

“What?” Courtney asked, head tilted coyly. 

“I have this friend from college, Sam, who runs an open mic night in the village. We should go. You should sing something!” 

“I’m...how did you know I sing?” Courtney asked. 

“Uh, I heard you last Saturday, singing along at the concert. You have an amazing voice,” Willam said. He flashed a big smile at her for good measure. 

“Oh,” Courtney said, looking up at him with starry eyes. “Really?”

God, she was so easy. Her dream of being a recording artist was just about the most obvious thing in the world for anyone with her FaceBook profile. He’d barely needed to research at all to figure that one out. 

“Absolutely,” Willam said. “I think you’re a star.” 

Courtney took a long sip of her wine, deep in thought. 

“You know, the truth is…” Courtney paused, biting her lip. “Ummm…”

“What? You can tell me,” Willam assured her, taking one her her hands in his. The sad reality was that in order to have any chance at something juicy about Galactica, he had to listen to a lot of crap. Because Courtney  _ loved _ to talk, maybe more than anyone he’d ever met. 

“Well, when I first got to New York, I had this idea that I was gonna get a part in a Broadway show, or...or some other job as a singer. I went on all these open calls. Every single one I could. Broadway, music videos, back-up singers, anything. But…” 

“Yeah? What happened?” 

Courtney deflated, her eyes cloudy with tears as she shook her head. 

“ _ Nothing _ happened. I never got past the first rounds, never made it to the real auditions. One of the dance captains pulled me aside one day and said that if I wanted to be competitive, I needed way more dance lessons. So I’ve been trying to do that, but it’s really expensive and ever since I started at this Galactica job, it’s even harder to make it work with my schedule. And I mean, I still write music and I still want to be a singer or an actress someday but…” 

“It’ll happen,” Willam said kindly, patting her on the shoulder. “You gotta believe in yourself.”

“I don’t know.” Courtney’s shoulders sagged, eyes big and sad as she gazed up at him, lip trembling. “I’ve never told anyone this, but sometimes...sometimes I worry that if I was really talented enough, something would already have happened. You know? Maybe...maybe I’m just not good enough. Maybe I’ll never be good enough.” 

Willam cleared his throat. Shit, what the fuck was he supposed to say to all that? 

“Listen,” he began. “You are destined for amazing things; I know it. You just gotta keep going, keep trying, and someday, everyone will see the greatness that I do. I swear it.” 

“You really think so?” 

“I know so,” Willam promised, watching her eyes tear up some more. “Now, come on. Let’s get over to that open mic and show them what a real superstar looks like.” 

“You know...I’ve never dated anyone as supportive and kind as you…” Courtney said, twirling her wine glass. 

Willam smiled again, trying to push down the guilty feeling creeping into his stomach. This would be a lot easier if she wasn’t so damn sweet. 

“Well...you deserve it, babe.” 

*** 

“Sit still.”

“I am-” Katya smiled, wiggling her fingers again, the nail polish wand hitting her skin.

“Katya!” Violet gasped. “Look at your hand-” Violet reached for a cotton ball, gently removing the polish, the cold liquid feeling nice.

“Sorry.” Katya smirked. She knew it wasn’t very kind of her, but it was impossible not to mess at least a little with Violet.

The two of them were sitting on her couch, both of them in pajamas, Katya’s hand resting on Violet’s knee as she was slowly and carefully painting her nails a deep red.

They had eaten dinner together, Violet letting Katya pick a movie without any fight at all, which Katya had found a little weird. Normally it took hours of negotiation to get anyone to watch ‘The Princess Bride’, but Violet had simply agreed right away, almost like she didn’t have an opinion on it.

“You’re not sorry at all-” Violet giggled, and Katya felt her heart warm at the sound. 

“I’m not.” It felt a little wrong to tease Violet, but the other took obvious delight in it, so Katya didn’t feel too bad. She was grateful that Violet had agreed to this little sleepover, spending time with a friend so much better than being alone. 

It wasn’t that Katya couldn’t be on her own, wasn’t that she was incapable of keeping her demons down, but it was easier with someone around, easier to focus on Violet and her smile, the other woman absolutely hilarious in her dry commentary and snarky sense of humor.

Katya didn’t like her apartment being empty, couldn’t find peace when there wasn’t the putter of others around her. It was part of the reason she had never kicked up a fuss about the fact that Pearl still lived with them. It made her feel calm when she could hear Pearl in the kitchen, when there was the clink of beers in the living room when her and Trixie played games together, even Pearl’s parade of girls had their own strange comfort. 

Usually, with the Galactica team in Europe, she’d have relied more on Kim and Shangela. But with Kim working on a commercial for the new makeup line and Shangie distracted by the honeymoon bliss of a new relationship, she really would have been alone had it not been for Violet. 

“Maybe you should choose the next movie,” Katya offered. “What do you want to watch? What’s your favorite?” 

“Let’s just watch whatever you want,” Violet smiled, “I don’t mind.”

Katya leaned against Violet’s shoulder. She was a strange little bird, indeed. But Katya was infinitely happy to have found her. 

***

“Hello?” 

Violet tried to not croak, her voice heavy with sleep. She had no idea what time it was. She was sleeping in Katya’s bed with the blonde’s head resting on her shoulder. When she attempted to make her exit last night, Katya had looked like a kicked puppy, so she decided to stay in spite of it being a work night. 

_ “Violet?!” _

Violet sat up, Katya making a surprised noise as she was unceremoniously dumped down on the bed.

“Miss? Is everything alright?” Violet was completely awake, adrenaline coursing through her blood.

_ “The breakfast at this hotel is absolutely horrid. They gave me what is clearly a kale juice when I specifically requested spinach.” _

“I’m sorry Miss,” Violet swallowed, Fame sounding genuinely upset. “I’ll call the concierge immediately, do you want me to-”

_ “I don’t want you to call anyone.” _

“Oh? Umh, should I email-”

_ “No. I want you to pack your things-” _

Violet froze, wondering for a moment if Fame was going to fire her over a mistake a chef in Italy had made.

_ “Book yourself a flight, and meet me in Paris.” _

“Paris- How?”

“ _ Figure it out. _ ”

Violet couldn’t believe what she had just heard, but before she could even finish her sentence, Fame had hung up, the phone beeping in her ear.

“Shit.” Violet looked down, Katya lying next to her, the blonde wide awake.

“Katya?” Violet reached out, gently touching Katya’s hair.

“Mmh?”

Violet could see that Katya was trying to be brave, what little she could see in the shadows of night painted with worry. 

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. Fine. I’m totally fine. Super fine.”

“Katya-” Violet wasn’t the most emotionally observant person, but Katya was clearly winding herself up, almost like she was afraid to lose it, and that was when she had an idea. “How difficult would it be for you to take a few days off?” Violet ran her hand through Katya’s hair.

“I could work something out, make sub plans-” Katya bit her lip. “Why?”

“Do you happen to speak French?”


	26. Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Violet bonded with Katya so much that she brought her along to Paris. 
> 
> This Chapter: Paris Fashion Week begins, and no one is safe from the chaos.

_ SUTAN: Heard from Raja that you’re coming to Paris? _

_ VIOLET: Touching down Sunday.  _

_ SUTAN: That’s great!! _

_ VIOLET: I’m happy that I’ll get to see you sooner. _

_ SUTAN: I’m happy too _

_ SUTAN: Where are you staying? _

_ VIOLET: Why? _

_ SUTAN: If you want to save Galactica some money, you can bunk up with me? _

_ VIOLET: That sounds very responsible _

_ SUTAN: I promise to be a great roomie ;) _

***

Courtney yawned, walking through the dark lobby, when she saw light coming from the office, stopping her in her tracks.

Courtney quickly looked at her phone, sighing deeply.

Of course, even at 5:30 am, Violet had beat her to the office. 

“Hey, good morning,” Courtney said, walking in. Violet was sitting at her desk, typing away, fully alert and raring to go.

“Courtney!” Violet looked up, her ponytail bouncing. “Good. I’m glad you’re finally here.”

“Finally?” Courtney raised an eyebrow. “It’s 5:30?” She knew Violet kept weird hours sometimes, but this seemed excessive, even for her.

“Exactly.” Violet tapped on her keyboard, standing up, and Courtney noticed that she was wearing a tightfitting pencil skirt and a white peasant blouse. Violet didn’t exactly have a colorful style, but she usually wore something less anonymous.

“We have a lot to do.”

“Did something happen?”

“Fame wants me to meet her in Paris.” 

“Oh…” Courtney said. That explained why Violet was here already. “So...you’ll be gone next week? All week?” 

“Yes.”

Courtney bit her lip, trying not to betray how thrilled she was. She’d be all alone in the office--no Fame, no Violet. No one snapping at her, ordering her around, dictating every little part of her day. Her smile deepened the more she thought about it. 

Trying to cover, Courtney stammered out, “That’s awesome! I’m so happy for you, you really deserve it.” 

Violet rolled her eyes. “The fact that you think this is a reward shows how little you know about anything.” 

“Um…” Courtney bit her lip. She had no idea how a trip to Paris couldn’t be a reward. A whole week with the world’s most glamorous people, filled with croissants and champagne, sounded like bliss. “Sorry.” 

“We don’t have a lot of time to prepare you, but I started making a list of everything you need to take care of while I’m gone.” 

Violet pulled a sheet of paper from the printer and walked over to Courtney’s desk. 

“I’ll be mobile, so you’ll need to be in charge of the phone sheet and schedule. Fame expects her phone sheet updates every half hour, and schedule updates every 2 hours, as well as all same-day changes as soon as humanly possible. Summaries of all wardrobe requests must be emailed three times a day to Fame, Raja, Ivy and myself. You always have to pull the reports and daily summaries of media requests, with the priority publications at the top in bold. You’ll need to coordinate with the hotel concierge to get her hard copies of this whenever possible. ”

“Yes!” Courtney scribbled furiously on her notepad, trying to keep up with Violet’s mile-a-minute instructions. By the time she was finished going over her list, Courtney’s heart was racing and beads of sweat had formed at her temples. 

They were interrupted by Miss Fame calling in, and soon Violet was on the phone with her. 

Courtney looked back over her notes, brow furrowed, trying to make out what she’d even written. There was so much to remember, her head was spinning. 

A soft ding sounded from her computer, followed by 3 more, and she looked up to see that Violet was sending her DMs with additional tasks. 

Courtney gulped, rubbing her eyes, trying not to freak out. 

She could do this. She could handle the office all on her own. 

Right?

***

Trixie was standing in the arrivals at the Charles de Gaulle airport, a coffee in hand as he waited, so excited he could barely breathe.

When Violet had emailed him a travel itinerary, Trixie had been confused at first, not understanding why since he wasn’t flying anywhere until the end of Paris, but when he opened it, he had screamed so loud he had scared Pearl.

Katya was coming to Paris, his Katya.

They had talked on the phone, Katya a giggly and ecstatic mess, telling him over and over again how excited she was to come.

A businessman walked past him, and Trixie tried to act cool, tried to be nonchalant and blend in, the French a strange emotionless folk who always seemed like they were bored to him.

Trixie spotted Violet first, and then, he saw her. Katya was dressed in an orange and brown jogging set, and while she stuck out like a sore thumb, she had never looked prettier. 

“Katya!!! Katya!!!”

Trixie screamed and jumped the barrier in front of him, not caring that everyone was looking as he ran to the girls, gathering Katya up in his arms and swinging her around. Katya’s laugh filled his ears as he held her so tight he could hear her bones crack. He could hear people around them laughing fondly, but as Katya grabbed his head, pulling him into a rough and messy kiss, nothing else mattered.

***

Violet should have realised that it was a mistake not getting her own car from the airport. 

Trixie and Katya had been inseparable, giggling and whispering if they were kissing, and right now, Katya was sitting in Trixie’s lap in the back seat, uncomfortably wet noises coming from them, the whole ordeal absolutely mortifying.

{Can you turn up the music please?} Violet looked at their driver.

{It’ll only give them ideas mademoiselle.}

Violet bit her lip, guessing that the driver was right, and she crossed her arms, leaning back in her seat. 

She hadn’t slept properly since Fame’s phone call, preparing everything so last minute beyond stressful. Her own wardrobe for a week in Paris would have been enough of a headache, but she had left the office in Courtney’s hands. The blonde had promised her she could do it, but Violet wasn’t so sure.

She couldn’t wait to see Sutan, but first, she had to get through the day, Fame’s list of things she needed to get done miles long. 

***

“Baby, baby get on your back,” Katya moaned and pushed Trixie’s shoulder, her legs around his hips and her hands in his hair. “I wanna ride you, I wanna ride you so bad.”

Trixie nodded eagerly, closing his eyes, a groan leaving him before he rolled them over, Katya now on top as he continued to thrust.

“Wait!” Katya gasped as Trixie hit a particularly deep spot inside her.

Trixie stilled immediately, looking up at Katya with panic in his eyes.

“Do we need to talk about the fact that I almost relapsed?” Katya was panting.

“Now? You want to talk about that  _ now? _ ”

Katya nodded, her hair falling down over her shoulders, tickling Trixie’s nose.

“I don’t think now’s the best time baby, could we pleas-” Trixie couldn’t keep his hips still anymore, the need to fuck simply too much with Katya tight and wet around him. He pushed up and Katya groaned deep in her throat at the delicious full feeling.

“No, no!” Katya pushed down on Trixie’s chest. “Stop, don’t move.”

Trixie whimpered, but stopped moving once again.

“Are you okay?” Katya put a hand on his cheek. “You’ve been so understanding about the entire thing.” She petted him gently, her thumb gliding over his cheekbone. “You didn’t come home, even if you wanted to, because I told you you couldn’t”

“Are you-“ Trixie gritted his teeth. “Are you seriously complaining about me doing what you tell me to do, while we’re fucking?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, are you okay, baby? All I thought about was me-me-me in the situation…”

Trixie threw his head back and groaned, a deep desperate sound.

Katya was momentarily distracted by the long line of his throat. There was a bead of sweat, and she wanted to lean down and lick it off. 

Instead, she brushed it away gently with her fingers, not giving into her body’s desire.

“Yes,” Trixie bit out. “I’m okay, I’m okay if you’re okay and if we’re okay and it seems like we are.” He gestured to where their bodies met.

“But…” Katya trailed off, clearly uncertain about the whole situation even as she leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Do you still want to be with me? What if I fuck everything up?”

“Can we please talk about this later?” Trixie asked, looking up at Katya, trying not to pump his hips.

“No, we can’t, I need to know!” Katya said sternly, pressing down on his shoulders, keeping him still underneath her.

Trixie groaned and jerked underneath her, panting.

“Don’t,” Katya said. “Do not come, Trix, do not come.”

Trixie looked up at the ceiling. Katya didn’t know if he was gathering his thoughts or trying not to spill his load or what. She was starting to feel nervous, but he still felt so good underneath her.

He was still obeying her order not to move, and she couldn’t help it: she was really turned on.

“Answer me,” she said.

“Yes!” he said. “I want to be with you until the day I die, I love you, I love you, every part of you!”

Katya laughed, tears falling from her eyes. They still had a lot they needed to talk about. Rules and boundaries they needed to set, how they would get through if Katya did have a relapse. 

They had to talk about it, but oh God, Trixie felt so good inside of her.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay.” Katya leaned down and gave him a chaste kiss on the mouth, tears still falling from her eyes. “You can move,” she told him. “But you’re still not allowed to come. Not until I say.”

Trixie groaned, his hips shooting up against Katya’s. She planted her palms on his sweaty shoulders, bracing herself, ready to get fucked.

Trixie thrusted up into her, and she moaned. “Yeah, Trix, you feel so good. You’re so good, oh God.”

Katya leaned down and kissed his jaw, his neck, across his shoulders. His hands shifted along her back, over her ass and thighs. He was touching her everywhere.

“Are you gonna come?” Trixie asked. “Oh fuck, please tell me you’re close, I wanna come so bad, please, please…”

Trixie thrusted up helplessly, and Katya moved her hand between their bodies, drawing quick circles around her clit until she felt herself coming. The shock of it rushed through her entire body until she was a boneless heap on top of him.

“Katya, please, please…”

“Come baby, come on.”

Trixie gasped wetly, thrusting several times before groaning and coming deep inside her, moaning his pleasure.

After a while, Katya slid off, cuddling into Trixie’s side. “Are we good?” she asked, looking down at him.

“Well, you’re a pain in my ass, and your timing’s for shit, but… Katya Zamolodchikova, will you marry me?”

Katya felt her jaw drop. “What?”

“Katya Zamolodchikova, will you marry me? Because I want to marry you, I want to marry your bad breath in the morning, and your glitter collection, and your alcohol problem. I want to marry your weird Russian food and how you always have cold feet when we cuddle and the way you always kiss me in the most perfect way. I want to marry all of it.”

“Yes, yes… Yes, of course I’ll marry you!”

Trixie smiled, leaning up and kissing Katya as tears rolled down the other’s face, the two locked together in a tight embrace.

***

Sutan sighed, leaning back in the plush velvet booth, the subtle sound of music coming from the dance floor. 

Normally, when he was sitting with his sister and friends in a posh lounge, he would be perfectly content.

Fame was giggly and happy, while Raven on her third vodka soda, the low calorie drink the only option he had approved, knowing that Raven’s sweet tooth would cause her to beg for Parisians treats all week, and that his sister had no spine when it came to indulging her fiance.

Normally, Sutan would take this kind of event, a Paris Fashion Week kickoff party hosted by YSL, as a perfect networking opportunity, a place to work his charm and look for new potentials for the American market amongst the European models. 

Tonight, however, he was too preoccupied with watching the stairs.

He had caught the shows of Mame Kurogouchi and Cecilie Bahnsen, his day ending with Mugler who had been fantastic as always.

None of his own girls had had any emergencies, but as Elite’s man on the ground he had kept his phone in his hand the entire day, ready for anything and everything to happen.

Sutan loved his job, and he was damned good at it, but tonight, he couldn’t settle, couldn’t find peace. He was too busy thinking about Violet, and when she would show up, if she would be excited to see him.

He felt like he was a little boy, waiting for a play date to arrive with his nose pressed to the glass of his front window as he kept staring at the door.

His leg jiggled, and Raja looked over at him with a smirk. 

[Nervous?] she asked teasingly, tapping his thigh, and Raven giggled, pressing herself even closee to Raja’s side, the tipsy model an absolute slut for when his sister spoke Indonesian.

“No, of course not,” Sutan scoffed, pulling the conversation back to English. He didn’t like talking about his feelings if he could help it, but Raja had never cared about that. 

[Tan, don’t worry.] Raja gave his thigh a squeeze before she released him. [She’ll be here soon.]

Sutan sat up straight, and Raja smirked, his sister reading him like an open book. 

“Where did Pearl run off to?” Raven wondered. 

“Yeah, I figured if anyone could be counted on to help me finish this bottle of gin, it’d be her,” said Raja. 

“Oh, you know how she gets around French girls,” Fame said with a wave of her hand. 

Sutan chuckled softly, completely unconcerned with the whereabouts of Pearl Liaison, when he felt Raven’s sharp elbow in his side, directing his attention towards the entrance. 

Violet had just walked in, and Sutan felt his heart skip a beat. 

He had missed her, genuinely missed her, the one slightly unfocused picture she had sent of her face not nearly enough. 

He had spent the last 3 weeks looking at models all day, watching girls who made a living off of their beauty, so seeing Violet was a breath of fresh air, her grace something so very different.

She was wearing a black dress, and now that Sutan knew she was an assistant, he guessed that the choice was made to blend into the background. If that was the goal however, she wasn’t succeeding at all, Sutan’s eyes glued to her, the open neckline taunting him even from this distance.

***

Violet was at an Yves Saint Laurent party, and while she should be ecstatic, all she could think about was how tired she was. 

She had spent the day running around, fixing things for Fame, making sure that her Paris experience wouldn’t have any bumps in the road.

She had checked into her and Sutan’s room, the bed like a siren call, but she had managed to resist it, instead pulling out her very best to look as presentable as possible, the black dress a safe bet, her lips painting in a red Fame had approved of before, her hair quickly curled and hanging loose.

Violet scanned the room, spotting her boss and her friends, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Sutan. 

Their eyes met, and he raised a brow, a smile on his face.

He was leaning back in one of the couches, almost offensively attractive in a dark green suit, with what looked like a whiskey in his hand. 

Violet quickly made her way up the stairs, so ready to just sit and know that he was near, but first, she had to report to Fame. Her boss almost looked like an angel in her signature white, her dress tight around her waist, the stylist Violet had hired doing a great job with her hair. 

“Miss-” Violet opened her mouth, but she was interrupted by Raven.

“Violet! Darling, hello!” Raven smiled brightly. She was dressed in sparkling gold, long black hair spilling down her back, her ears, neck and fingers shining with jewelry. 

“Come have some champagne-” Raven handed her a glass, and Violet took it with a grateful smile. 

“Are you trying to get the staff drunk, princess?” Raja smiled. She was dressed in a gold accented suit, the two of them obviously matching when they were sitting side by side, though both outfits worked on their own right.

“Violet isn’t staff. It’s a party,” Raven smirked, and Violet wondered for a moment exactly what Sutan had told his friends. “Right Fame?”

Fame watched Violet, her blue eyes scanning her entire body. Violet knew she was being judged, so she stood completely still, waiting for Fame’s call. “I suppose so.”

Violet released a breath through her nose she didn’t realise she had been holding, Fame sometimes more terrifying than any teacher she had ever had.

“See!” Raven grinned, obviously tipsy. “Sit down,” She reached up, pulling on Violet’s hand. “Relax!”

Violet dumped down, and realized that she wouldn’t be able to relax at all, Sutan right next to her. 

“Hi.” Sutan smiled, and Violet felt her entire body heat up. Raja was talking to Fame, her attention not on them, and Violet wanted so desperately to lean in for the kiss she knew Sutan was offering, wanted to feel his lips on her, his hands on her body.

“Hi-”

“Bonjour, assholes!” called a voice, and Violet’s head snapped up to see Bianca Del Rio striding towards them, Adore Delano at her side. 

“Adore! Come sit by me!” Raven cooed, patting the bench beside her and laying a kiss against Adore’s cheek. 

“How was your flight, darling?” added Fame.

“It was great! I had about five servings of those warm nuts,” Adore said, and Fame burst out laughing, giving her a hug. 

“Uh, hello, what am I, chopped liver?” Bianca complained. 

“No, chopped liver actually tastes good, unlike your rotted face,” said Raja. 

“Awww, honey, you remember!” Bianca cooed sarcastically, reaching for Raja’s hair. 

“Unfortunately,” Raja laughed, slapping her hand away as she poured a cocktail, handing it to Adore. “Here, baby.” 

“Thanks Rajie!” Adore said, taking the drink and catching the air kisses Raja sent across the table with a giggle. 

Violet felt a little strange watching everyone fawn over Adore and treat her like a tiny, helpless child. After all, they were the same age. But she supposed it had to do with them knowing her since she was a little girl. 

Bianca, for her part, had made herself right at home on the sofa beside Raja, exchanging friendly barbs, both of them cackling over the apparently tragic show in Milan of some former colleague. 

Violet started to relax, feel a bit relieved, like she might be able to stay under the radar and enjoy herself. She moved slightly closer to Sutan, pressing her leg against his, and Sutan looked at her, his smirk filling her with warm delight. 

He reached out, not a world leaving him as he put his arm on the back of the couch.

“Well, look at you two…” Bianca said, her sharp eyes on them.

Violet jumped. She had completely forgotten that Bianca was there, Sutan demanding her entire attention so she quickly sat up straight, smoothing down her skirt.

“What’s going on here?” She gestured between the two of them. 

“Umh…” Sutan paused, giving Violet a glance, but he didn’t remove his arm, his hand actually reaching out to touch Violet’s shoulder, the touch warm and dry and infinitely grounding. 

“Fame, you pimping your assistants out now?” Bianca asked Fame with a delighted grin. “Because if so, I call dibs on the sexy pink-haired one back in New York.” 

“Bianca!” Adore exclaimed, horrified. Violet couldn’t blame her; hearing her sister talk about Courtney like that had to be extremely uncomfortable. 

“I’m kidding! She knows I’m kidding,” Bianca said. “Like I’d ever need her help.” 

“You’re gross,” Adore told her, standing up. “I think I should just leave you to be your nasty selves. I’ll catch you all later.”

Violet watched Adore descend the steps down from their little lounge area. She almost wished that she could leave as well, but Sutan was holding her, the man not moving away at all even as his friends were teasing him. 

When Violet turned her attention to the group, Fame was scrutinizing her with those calculating gray eyes, taking a slow sip of her champagne, before turning to Bianca smugly. 

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Fame asked. 

“Yeah, where have you been?” Raja added playfully, both of them clearly enjoying the fact that they knew something Bianca didn’t. 

“So then, it’s true?” Bianca asked, staring directly at Sutan and Violet. 

“ Listen B, the truth is…” Sutan began, and Violet felt her entire body tense up again, spine rigid. “...that it’s none of your damn business.” 

Violet breathed out a tiny bit, but even more when he stood up and offered her a hand. 

“I’m gonna go have a cigarette. Would you like to accompany me to the patio, Ms. Chachki?” 

Violet took his hand, nodded, and began to follow him outside. 

“That’s a filthy habit!” Fame called after him. 

“Yeah, and so’s smoking!” Bianca said, making the rest of the group burst into cackling laughter. 

*

“Bianca!” Fame huffed, pushing her friend's shoulder. “Leave him alone!”

“You have to admit, it’s pretty funny,” said Bianca, a smirk on her lips. 

Bianca looked unfairly attractive in her party outfit, the cut of her dress showing off her collarbones, but Fame refused to let her off the hook.

“That doesn’t mean that-”

“I think they’re cute together!” Raven insisted, smiling as she took a sip of her drink. Raven was getting closer and closer to actually drunk, and Fame shot a look over her shoulder at Raja who shrugged and put an arm around her fiancée's waist, pulling Raven close.

“Right,” Bianca rolled her eyes. 

Fame wasn’t sure she agreed either, the idea that Violet and Sutan were actually together strange to her, but she had seen how different Sutan had acted lately, how he had been glued to his phone, how he had been so obviously excited about something he had tried to keep a secret from all of them.

“Right,” Raja smiled, taking Raven’s drink.

“All I’m saying is that Blondie dragged her assistant all the way to France as a security blanket--”

“Ah!” Fame gasped. She had not dragged Violet here as a “security blanket,” she simply needed her assistant to make sure her day was perfectly pleasant and that nothing went wrong ever. “I did not-”

“And now she’s abandoned you to suck face with Tan, god help her.”

Raja wrinkled her nose, and Fame could see how it instantly annoyed her. Raja was almost stupidly protective of her brother, always jumping to his defense even when he didn’t need it.

“It’s funny.” Bianca smiled, running a hand through her hair. 

“Hilarious,” Fame added drily. 

Raven had fallen into her fiancée's arms, the model kissing Raja’s neck.

“Aww, don’t be bitter, Blondie,” Bianca grinned at her, sending over an air kiss, and Fame almost wanted to roll her eyes, Bianca irritatingly charming. 

“If anyone here has a security blanket, it’s you with Adore.” Fame crossed her arms.

“Please. Adore is just here for the free trip, because I’m an awesome sister,” Bianca chuckled. “Where is she, anyway?” 

***

Pearl was even sexier than Adore remembered, leaning back against the patio bar with a drink in her hand and a sparkle in her eye. 

Adore felt ridiculous to be watching her this way from behind a column, but she hadn’t answered any of the texts Adore sent since she landed, so she didn’t want to be pushy or needy or...well, herself. 

There was a split second when Adore thought that she caught her eye, but she might have imagined it, since she just went right back to talking to the dark-haired girl beside her. Adore closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She needed to just say hi. A nice, casual hello. There was nothing wrong with that, right? 

She squared her shoulders and headed over to where Pearl stood, trying not to look too eager. Then, Pearl reached over, placing her hand on the girl’s arm and leaning closer. 

Adore suddenly felt like an absolute idiot. Pearl wasn’t just chatting with that girl, she was hitting on her. She froze, assessing the situation for a few excruciating seconds before turning and running in the opposite direction. 

Was she a wuss? Yes. Yes, she was. 


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Violet bonded with Katya so much that she brought her along to Paris. 
> 
> This Chapter: Club night wraps up, Violet and Sutan reconnect, and someone makes a big announcement.

“I missed you so much-”

Violet had to swallow a giggle, her arms around Sutan’s neck, the man’s hands on her hips. 

He had pulled her into a corner the moment they stepped outside on the patio, a heating lamp humming a few steps away. 

Violet hadn’t had time for a proper dinner, so the glass of champagne had made her pleasantly tipsy, which was absolutely the only reason that she was giggling, the bubbling happiness in her chest not connected to Sutan’s words at all.

“I missed you too.” Violet could feel a blush rise in her cheeks, and she pulled Sutan down, their lips finally meeting in the kiss she had been craving since arriving. Sutan was such a good kisser, attentive and firm, leading where they were going with absolute confidence, and Violet allowed herself to drown in his arms.

She had no idea how long she had been standing there, when she heard a familiar voice. Violet broke their kiss, only to see that Pearl had made it out on the patio.

“What are you looking at, lovely eyes?”

Pearl was talking to a stranger, leaning in and clearly looking at the woman's tits, but Violet could see that she was drunk, Pearl’s eyes barely open.

“Nothi-” Violet was just to kiss him again when she saw the stranger throw a drink directly in Pearl’s face.

“Oh shit-”

Sutan turned his head, only to see Pearl getting slapped.

***

“Pearl-” Pearl felt something cold touch her cheek. “Pearl look at me please.”

Pearl opened her eyes with a groan. She was drunk, really drunk, her entire world swimming, the only thing clear to her Violet who was standing right in front of her, the other woman holding a bottle of water to her face.

Pearl couldn’t remember exactly how she had gotten there, the edge of a sink digging into her lower back, but Violet had somehow gotten her to a bathroom, her eyes filled with worry.

“Are you okay?” Violet moved the bottle, gently rubbing her thumb over the red skin, and Pearl was torn between running away from the pain and pushing into the touch because it was Violet.

Violet Violet Violet.

“‘M fine, just didn't recognise her.” 

“What?”

“She wasn’t a stranger.”

Pearl wasn’t exactly proud of it, but she had completely forgotten that she had hooked up with that particular woman before, her face not registering until Pearl had gotten slapped.

“Oh Pearl-” Violet whispered. She pulled away, running her fingers through Pearl’s hair and putting it behind her ear. “Here.” Violet held the bottle up. “Drink please.”

Pearl nodded, taking a sip. She could probably hold it on her own, but it was nice that Violet was holding it, so nice to be close to her.

“You should really keep better track of who you sleep with.” Violet sighed, taking the bottle away.

“Maybe.” Pearl sighed. She was feeling a bit better, her world no longer spinning as fast, though she had no intention of saying that to the other woman.

“Your makeup is everywhere.” Violet sighed, “did you bring a bag?”

“No.” Pearl snorted. “I’m gay, remember?”

“Gay girls have bags too.” Violet rolled her eyes. “Let’s just- Get up.”

“Up?”

“On the counter.”

“Ah.” Pearl pulled herself up, spreading her legs so Violet could step between them, the other woman going through her clutch.

“Here-” Violet pulled a makeup wipe out. “Lean back.”

Pearl did as she asked, putting her head against the mirror as Violet’s hands returned to her face, her gentle touches carefully removing the traces of alcohol and mascara. 

“What were you even thinking?”

The blame was heavy in Violet’s voice, and Pearl felt her stomach clench. She wasn’t normally one to feel bad, wasn’t normally one to give two shits what other people thought, but she liked Violet, really liked her. 

“This isn’t some rundown barnyard rave where you can dance around naked.”

“Is that-” Pearl snorted. “That's what you think raves are?”

“No. Yes. Maybe? I-” Pearl could hear the blush in Violet’s voice, and she was reminded how much she loved flustering the other woman.

“This is an industry event Pearl.” Violet pulled back. “You’re here as Galactica’s Head of PR and Social Media.”

“You sound like Fame.” Pearl opened her eyes just to roll them. “All behave and no fun, but who’d you feel if you got your heart broken.”

Pearl froze, not even realising what she had actually said until the words left her mouth. 

“Whatever-” Violet sounded annoyed, a sigh coming from her. “Whatever you say Pearl, though I hardly think she warrants a broken heart.”

“She?” Pearl couldn’t understand, nothing in Violet’s attitude or how she behaved made any sort of sense. 

“The not stranger stranger-”

Pearl wanted to say something, anything, to make Violet understand that she was the one she was talking about, not the girl that didn't even matter. 

“-I doubt she’s the only one for you.”

“I love you, Violet.” Pearl sat up straight, desperate for her words to be heard.

“I love you too,” Violet smiled, “and we’ll always be friends.”

***

Bianca sighed, sipping her drink, already bored with this party. And especially with the way Raja and Raven were all over each other; Raven was practically in Raja’s lap, head tilted to the side as Raja layered wet kisses along her neck. 

She caught Fame’s eye, gesturing to the overly affectionate couple and making a disgusted grimace. Fame laughed, leaning forward and saying, “I think they’re cute.” 

“They’re gross,” Bianca countered, rolling her neck. 

“Jealous?” 

“Are you out of your mind?” Bianca asked her. 

“Well, you did just break up with that Devon girl. Maybe you’re feeling a little lonely.” Fame poked one of her dimples, lashes fluttering. 

“Derrick. And no, I’m definitely not feeling lonely. I am, however, feeling tired as fuck and a strong desire to leave this club. Where the hell is Adore?” 

As if summoned by magic, that was the moment Adore’s voice sounded from behind her. 

“Hey…” she said, sitting down forlornly on the sofa. 

“Where have you been?” Bianca asked, as her sister slumped against her shoulder. 

“Nowhere,” Adore sighed. 

“How to you feel about getting the fuck out of here and heading back to the hotel?” Bianca kissed the top of Adore’s head. 

“Can we get room service?” 

“Sure.” 

“Then yes.” 

***

Katya was lying awake, the sun slowly creeping up over the Parisians rooftops. For the first time since in weeks, she wasn’t feeling the pull of the bottle, the minibar in the corner of the room not tempting her at all, but she wasn’t anxiety free, unease humming underneath her skin.

Trixie was asleep next to her, his face buried in her hair, his arm over her. She had no idea how she should think of him, fiance, bethronted, husband to be. 

They all sounded right, sounded true, a lifetime with Trixie an absolute dream come true, but the more she said them to herself, the worse she felt. 

What if he hadn’t meant the engagement, what if he had only said it because she had accidentally forced him to.

“Morning wifey.” 

Katya turned her head, Trixie’s voice surprising her. “Wha-”

“I said-” Trixie grinned, the corners of his blue eyes wrinkled with his smile, “morning wifey.”

“So you meant it?” Katya twisted her body, turning until she was lying face to face with Trixie, their noses almost touching.

“Meant what?” Trixie raised a brow.

“The engagement.” Katya bit her lip. “I didn’t know if-”

“If I was sure?”

“Maybe…” As Katya said the words, she realised how stupid they sounded, but she had to say them, had to know. “Is it too soon? Have we thought it through-”

“ Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova,” Trixie reached out, putting a hand on her hip and pulling her even closer. “I’ve never meant anything more than when I asked if you wanted to be my wife, and I swear to you-” Trixie smiled. “I’ll never regret it.”

***

“Violet?”

“Just five more minutes, please.” Violet was yanked out of her slumber when a warm, deep laugh filled the room. She was lying on Sutan’s chest, and she tried to hide a yawn as she looked up at him. “What’s-” 

“Mornin’, lovely eyes.” Sutan chuckled, and Violet could feel one of his hands gently run through her hair. “Glad to see you joining the land of the living.”

“Don’t tease me-” Violet yawned again, Sutan’s hand feeling so very very good. “Wait… How did I get home last night?”

“How much do you remember?”

“We got in the cab, and-”

“You fell asleep before we had even pulled out from the curb.”

“What?!” Violet was suddenly wide awake. “I- That’s-” She knew she had been exhausted after the flight, and helping Pearl hadn’t exactly made her more alert, but to imaging that she had fallen asleep like that. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“I thought it was cute.”

Violet didn’t even have to look at Sutan’s face to know he had a huge, shit-eating grin on his lips. 

“Especially when I had to carry you inside.”

“Oh my god.” Violet groaned, pulling the duvet over her head. She wanted to scream into a pillow, but since she was lying on top of Sutan, the other man essentially acting like one, it would only make things so much worse.

“Come on-” Sutan laughed, “don’t hide under there.” 

“I’m not hiding, I’m making a tactical retreat.” 

Sutan lifted the duvet, and Violet smiled, crawling up his body until she could dump down in his arms and hide her face in his neck, inhaling deeply as she enjoyed his scent. 

“Wait. Why am I naked?”

Sutan laughed again, grabbing Violet’s arm and turning them around so he was lying on top of her. “It didn’t feel right to go through your suitcase”

“Oh.” Violet blushed, her legs falling open so Sutan could slide between them. Of course he had undressed her last night, the memory vaguely resurfacing if she concentrated. “Right.”

“You didn’t even wake up when I took off your makeup.” Sutan smiled, kissing his way down Violet’s neck, and Violet vaguely remembered the sensation of a wipe on her face. “But I’m glad I at least got to undress you after you tortured me all night.”

“You noticed?” Violet smiled, a moan leaving her as Sutan kissed the sensitive skin of her throat.

“Did I notice?” Sutan huffed. “You come into the club after I haven’t seen you in two weeks, looking like sex on legs? Of course I fucking noticed,” Sutan bit down on her neck, making Violet gasp.

“Don’t leave a mark!” Violet knew his friend knews, knew Fame had caught on, but she wouldn’t be able to live with it if she had to carry the proof front and center, the idea beyond embarrassing.

“I won’t, I won’t.” Sutan hummed as he kissed his way down her chest. “You drive me insane in the best possible way, Violet. I finally had you and then you ran away.”

“I didn’t-”

“I wanted to fuck you until you couldn’t remember anything but my name.”

Violet moaned and arched up against Sutan, desperately trying to get some friction in between her legs, but the weight of his body was holding her down as he was pinching, sucking and teasing her nipples, making tears gather in her eyes out of frustration and need.

“Please tell me you have a condom…” Violet’s voice was barely more than a whisper, but Sutan heard her and nodded.

“They’re in the drawer.”

“Please…” Violet looked up at him, her cheeks completely red as their eyes locked together. “I want… I want to…”

“Ssh, ssh.” Sutan smiled, their lips locking in a kiss, neither of them caring about the other’s morning breath. Violet was clinging to Sutan, small desperate moans leaving her lips as Sutan reached into the drawer on the side of the bed, holding his weight with one hand, only breaking their kiss to rip the packet open with his teeth.

Violet silently praised God that the man she was fucking was, well, just that, a man and not a fumbling boy who didn’t know what he was doing. 

Violet reached between them, not even caring about Sutan’s surprised moan as she grabbed his cock and guided it inside her, the feeling of finally, finally being filled blissful and Violet couldn’t help but whimper as Sutan bottomed out inside of her, all tension leaving her body, her lips parted as she gasped for air. 

The rhythm was slow and gentle, the two of them just enjoying each other’s bodies. 

“You…” Violet moaned, looking into Sutan’s eyes.

“You feel…” Violet whispered; she could feel her cheeks heat up. “ This, this is really good.”

She had never been one to be vocal in bed, but with Sutan it was different. 

Violet knew her embarrassment was worth it though, when Sutan flashed her a smile that was practically blinding.

“You’re so fucking sexy.”

Sutan grabbed her legs and guided them from his hips and over his shoulder, the angle he could thrust at now so much deeper. Violet’s fingers were gripping his biceps, his hair, the sheets, moaning out her pleas as Sutan fucked her good and deep.

Violet didn’t tip over, couldn’t let go, but she whimpered as Sutan came deep inside of her, everything warm and safe and perfect.

***

“Everyone-” Fame groaned, minutes away from stomping her foot in frustration. The lobby was an absolute madhouse, even though Fame did her best to gather the troops before they all went off to various shows. 

“Where’s Pearl?”

It was Fashion Week in a nutshell, and while she loved it, she was also beyond grateful to have Violet at her side, the knowledge that she had at least one person there who knew how to listen and execute orders comforting. Sutan was hovering at her side, and if Fame had more time, she would have grilled him for it, but her mind was beyond preoccupied.

“Here- Shit. ‘M here!”

“Pearl!” Fame exclaimed, letting out an exasperated sigh as the blonde wandered up to the group, wrapped in a fur coat, giant sunglasses obscuring her face, clutching a cup of coffee like it was a life preserver. “What in god’s name happened to you? You look like death.” 

“Sorry,” was all Pearl managed, and Fame shook her head. 

“Pearl Liaison, you get your act together and you better do it quickly. I will not have you wandering around Paris looking like a walking hangover.” 

“Okay, okay…” Pearl groaned, pushing her sunglasses into her hair. “I promise, I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute.” 

Fame paused, knowing that she absolutely wouldn’t tolerate this kind of behavior from anyone else, but of course, it was Pearl. 

“ _ One _ minute.” Fame turned away, attempting to exchange a put-upon look with Raja, but her business partner’s attention was elsewhere, listening intently to Raven yammer away--probably about all the pastries she was planning to binge on after the shows were over. Fame was almost ready to spew her bad mood over them, when she noticed something. 

“Wait a minute...where’s Trixie?” 

Usually one of her most reliable employees, it was unlike Trixie to be late. 

“Do you think he left already?” Fame looked around, scouting for him. She wasn’t asking anyone in particular, but she saw Violet step up, her assistant already on her phone, probably texting Trixie. “I distinctly told everyone to meet here.” Fame crossed her arms, tapping her fingers on her bicep. She was growing more and more annoyed, anger curling in her stomach.

This was unacceptable. Beyond unacceptable.

“Fame,” Bianca said, reaching out and touching her arm. She could feel that Bianca was annoyed, which only made her own mood worse. “We’re late,”

“I know we’re late!” Fame snapped. No one had forced Bianca to wait, her friend staying behind because she had asked, which now that Fame thought about it, actually made this her fault. “Sorry.” 

Fame knew it was bad when she was being mean to Bianca. 

“Damn, Blondie.” 

Nearby, Adore was covering her mouth to muffle her laughter. 

“I’m sorry, I just needed to tell Trixie to-”

Fame finally spotted the familiar bald head.

“Trixie!” She waved to him across the lobby, where he was striding from the elevator, Katya’s hand clasped in his. As they approached, her relief melted into confusion, brow creasing. “Are you taking Katya along for the shows? She’s not on the guest lists-”

“No no, that’s alright. She’s got plans. We just had news we wanted to share with you,” Trixie explained, grinning 

“Oh?” 

Katya looked so excited, almost bouncing on the balls of her feet, clutching Trixie’s hand in one of hers, the other wrapped around his arm. She exchanged a look with him, then they both burst out with their news in unison. 

“We’re getting married!” 

Fame’s mouth dropped open, eyes widening with delight, squealing happily, her voice echoing through the lobby as she cried, “Oh darlings, that’s  _ wonderful _ !” 

“Isn’t it?” Katya beamed. 

By now, the rest of the group was also reacting to the news. Raja and Sutan hugging Trixie and slapping him on the back, Fame squeezing Katya’s shoulders, Violet exclaiming her congratulations, Pearl lowering her shades to blink, dumbfounded, before offering her own hugs, Raven demanding to see Katya’s ring. 

Even Bianca and Adore got in on the love fest, Adore throwing her arms around Katya and crying, “Congratulations!” 

Katya accepted the hug, slightly confused as to who this strange young woman might be. 

“Thank you!...Who are you again?” 

“Who cares, you’re getting married!” Adore exclaimed, and Katya laughed. 

“Yeah, congrats, love conquers all, wonderful,” Bianca added, before tugging on Fame’s sleeve and informing her for the third time, “Blondie, we’re  _ late _ !”

“Alright, Bianca, alright,” Fame said, rolling her eyes. “Are the cars ready?” 

“Yes, miss!” Violet answered immediately. 

“Trixie, my love, let's have a little something tonight to toast you both. Violet will set it up. And then of course a proper engagement party back in New York. Tell Violet what you’d like and she can plan the whole thing as my gift to you.” 

Adore stifled another laugh, seemingly the only one who realized how incredibly funny that sentiment was. How generous Fame was with other people’s time and energy. Though most of her thoughts were still fixated on Pearl, getting the distracted blonde’s attention and striking out, it was nice that she could at least be somewhat entertained by the others. 

“Thank you so much, miss!” 

“Blondie!” 

“I’m  _ coming _ , Bianca, for god’s sake.” 

“No, there’s no ring yet. It was a bit of a spur of the moment kind of proposal,” Trixie was explaining to Raven. 

“I’ll send you the info for my jewelry designer,” she replied. 

“Rave! Come on!” Raja said, giving Trixie one last pat on the shoulder. “Sorry to run off, Trix, this is great! We’ll see you later!” 

Everyone began heading out the lobby doors, Trixie giving Katya a gentle kiss goodbye. When they separated, he realized that Pearl, looking hungover as shit and a bit shell-shocked, was still lagging behind the group. 

“Hey Pearlie Girl! Can you believe we’re getting married?!” He pulled her into a group hug with Katya. 

“I cannot. It’s literally the most grownup thing you’ve ever done.” 

“I also run a whole department of a fashion house,” Trixie reminded her. 

“So? So do I.” 

“Fair,” Trixie laughed, pressing one last kiss to Katya’s cheek. “Bye baby! I love you.” 

“Bye sugarbutt!” she called, waving as he and Pearl headed out towards the waiting towncars. 


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Adore still failed to get Pearl’s attention, Sutan and Violet reconnected, and Trixie and Katya announced their engagement.
> 
> This Chapter: Paris fashion week continues with a spark of hope, an injury, and a well-timed present.

“Ugh!” 

All Adore wanted was to reach her best friend and tell her the amazing news she had, but of course, Courtney wasn’t answering. She’d sent a bunch of text messages, tried her personal cell twice and her work cell four times. She knew it was business hours in New York, but so what? She needed to talk, and they were supposed to be ride or die besties. 

Adore knew there was one surefire way to reach her, though, so she smirked to herself, calling Fame’s office line--through the hotel, so her own number wouldn’t come up on the caller ID. 

_ “Miss Fame’s office.”  _

Adore affected her best French accent and said, “Hello, I have Madame Delano from French Vogue for Ms. Courtney Jenek.”

_ “Speaking.”  _

“Courtney, you fucktard, it’s me!” Adore laughed, flopping backwards onto her hotel bed. Bianca had booked them a suite, and she was deeply enjoying herself so far, wrapped in a spa robe, gorging herself on champagne and a huge room service seafood platter. 

_ “Oh god, sorry. It’s been a day,” _ Courtney said, finally dropping her pretentious work voice and sounding more like herself.  _ “How’s France?”  _

“C’est bon, mais oui!” Adore said, making her friend giggle. “Actually, I’m calling you because I have something amazing to report. But if you’re too busy, then-” 

_ “For you? Never!” _ Courtney assured her.  _ “I mean, sure, I have about a hundred things that Violet said I need to get done in the next ten minutes, but...eh, it can wait. What’s up?” _

“That’s my girl!” Adore grinning, settling back against her pillows and dipping a shrimp into some very delicious mystery sauce. “Okay, so, I was kind of bummed last night because I saw Pearl but she like, didn’t say hi or anything, and so I thought maybe she just wasn’t interested anymore, you know? And even this morning, I couldn’t get a read on her. But then…” 

Adore paused dramatically, popping the shrimp into her mouth. 

_ “Then...? What happened?!” _ Courtney exclaimed. 

“We were at this dumb fashion show, a super boring one for like Celine or something, and it was just like, suit suit suit suit...and I literally almost fell asleep, but then afterwards, I’m just standing at the bar with a drink, and guess who came up behind me?” 

_ “I want to say Pearl, but that seems so obvious.”  _

“Yes! Pearl! She came up to me, and she was so funny, all ‘what are you even doing here? You’re way too cool for this shit.’” 

_ “I mean, she’s right.”  _

“And the way she like, said it in this low voice right in my ear. I got all tingly and lightheaded and I almost just swooned right into her arms.” 

_ “Oh my god.”  _

“Yeah, so then I turned around and it was like those movies where the music swells and everything slows down and ugh, she’s  _ so _ hot, I cannot take it,” Adore rolled over, hugging a pillow to her chest, the memory of Pearl’s scent still clinging to her skin. 

_ “What did you say?”  _

“I was like…” Adore took a deep breath, trying to do her best impression of the sexy voice she’d used earlier, “Oh, you think you know me, huh? You have no idea…” 

_ “Stop it, you did not!”  _

“I did! And then she was like, ‘will i see you later at-” 

_ “Shit! Shit shit shit!”  _

“What? What’s wrong?” Adore sat up, slightly annoyed that her story had been interrupted, but also concerned for her friend. 

_ “I just spilled tea all over the...I gotta go, Adore, sorry.”  _

“Oh. But I still haven’t told you about the-” 

_ “I’ll call you later! Love you!”  _

Adore glared at her phone as the line went dead. “Rude.” 

*** 

Violet hurried behind Fame and Raja, on their way to a cocktail party. She knew that Fame had barely eaten any lunch, and that her dinner tonight wasn’t for another three hours, so when Fame held out a hand to her wordlessly, Violet knew exactly what she wanted. She fished the raw coconut date ball, Fame’s favorite snack for when her blood sugar dipped, out of her purse, even quickly opening the package before placing it in her boss’s hand. 

“That show was something, wasn’t it?” Fame asked, and Raja chuckled. 

“I know it makes me a terrible person--” Raja shook her head at Fame, who was offering her a piece of the snack. “--But I love watching a model take a proper dive off stage-”

“Raj!” Fame squealed, hitting her arm, hiding her mouth so no one could see her chewing. “Don’t make me choke on my dinner.”

They had just finished watching the Giambattista Valli show, Violet standing against the wall with all the other assistants. 

“What happened to that poor girl was terrible.” Fame huffed. She was in bright white, her red Valentino bag the only pop of color, the accessories matched perfectly to her lipstick.

“Absolutely horrible-” Raja smirked, everything about her radiating confidence as she walked down the street. “A true tragedy.” 

“Karma will get you for this.” 

Violet knew that Raja and Fame could bicker for hours, but they were cut off as they had finally made it to the historically old building where the evening’s cocktail hour was held. Violet didn’t wait, simply holding her arms out to take Fame’s coat, Raja followed suit, dumping them in Violet’s hands before they both disappeared. 

Violet nodded at the coat check girl, carefully putting the numbers in the zipped part of her purse. She had never lost anything of Fame’s, and she wasn’t about to start in Paris of all places.

***

“TanTan!” 

Raja spun around at the sound of a familiar voice calling her brother’s name.

“What the-” Sutan stood up straight.

Raja looked out over the crowd, fashion faces all around them. The cocktail party had been going for well over an hour, small oases set up for lounging around, which Raja took full advantage of.

“Tan!” 

Raja had always prided herself at being able to keep a calm head in any situation, but as soon as she spotted her fiancée, she felt her stomach clench.

“Raven?”

Raven was hobbling towards them, her fiance’s long black hair spilling down her back. She was in a black corset top, her neck adored with the emerald necklace Raja had so lovingly put on her that very morning.

As soon as their eyes met, though, Raven’s icy demeanor shattered, her face crumbling as she reached for her. It had been one of the first things Raja had noticed about Raven, was how indifferent she was, how difficult she was to impress. It was what had made her stand out like a shining beacon in a sea of beauty. 

This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good at all.

“Oh Raja!”

Raja answered instantly, rushing to her side, not even noticing that Fame and Violet had returned to their table, her twin right behind her.

“What happened?” Sutan flanked Raven right away, blocking both of them from view.

“My shoe broke-” Raven was shaky, and if Raja didn’t know any better, it almost sounded like she was about to cry, but that couldn’t be right. She put a protective arm around her fiancée, and Raven instantly leaned against her, letting her take her weight.

“Is everything alright?” Violet showed up behind Sutan, and while Raja didn’t have anything against her, she really didn’t want anyone she didn’t completely trust around right now.

“I think my ankle-” Raven gestured vaguely, and Raja looked down for the first time. Raven’s foot was visibly swollen, her golden Jimmy Choo missing it’s heel.

“Fuck.” Sutan crouched down, Violet’s hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “I have to make calls, if I’m lucky Jaslene can substitut-”

“NO!” Raven cried out. “No, don’t-”

Raja wanted to say something, wanted to butt in, but she didn’t know what to do. It was clear that Raven couldn’t walk a runway with a broken foot, and as a former model herself Raja knew just how much trouble there would be if Raven couldn’t honor her booking.

“Raven,” Sutan reached out, touching her shoe, and Raven immediately winched.

“Don’t touch it!”

“If I can’t touch it, how can you possibly think I’ll let you walk?” Sutan bristled, irritation clear on his face.

“I need to walk tomorrow!” 

Sutan touched her foot again, and Raven yelped, gritting her teeth through the pain.

[Let’s get her down.] Raja looked at her twin, and Sutan nodded. Raven allowed Raja to escort her to a nearby sofa, sitting down heavily and moaning, “What am I going to do?!” 

“Let me take a look.”

Raja turned, surprised to see Violet standing there with a big glass of ice and her purse. She hadn’t even noticed her leaving, but she couldn’t help but be impressed with her foresight. 

“Please-” Raven gestured to her foot, and Violet crouched down, Sutan sitting down next to Raja. 

“Holy shit…”

Raja looked at her brother, his mouth hanging slightly open, his arms crossed as he was staring directly at Violet.

“I know you’re scared,” Violet ever so gently took Raven’s shoe off, and Raja barely managed to hide her reaction to the ugly purplish bruise that was forming on her foot, “and I know you’re in a lot of pain, but I need you to be strong and I need you to be quiet.”

“I can do that.” Raven nodded.

“Sutan, give me your handkerchief.”

Violet held her hand out, and Sutan accommodated her immediately, handing her the fabric which Violet used to wrap the ice she fished out of the glass. Violet held it in place on Raven’s foot, even as she gasped, burying her face against Raja’s shoulder.

“Are you okay, princess?” Raja whispered. 

“No.”

“We’ll take good care of you, baby, don’t worry.” Raja pressed a kiss against Raven’s hair, the lush locks smelling faintly like orange blossom, and Raja couldn’t help but think back to that very morning where she’d been exploring damp and slick shower-fresh skin.

“Raven,” Violet said, trying to get the girl to focus on something other than her ankle. “Did you hear that Cordelia took a stage dive at the Giambattista Valli show?” 

“Quelle tragique,” Raven said, turning her face towards Violet, a hint of a smile pulling at her lips. “Poor little lamb.” 

Raja couldn’t help but be impressed with Violet’s ability to divert her attention from the pain so quickly. 

“Who are you walking for tomorrow?” Violet asked, and soon Raven was chatting away, telling Violet all about her plans for the rest of the week. After a few minutes of icing her ankle, Violet removed the kerchief and examined the bruise, nodding to herself before pulling a roll of white tape out of her purse.

“Have you been carrying that all day?” Sutan looked surprised, his voice filled with a sense of wonder Raja rarely ever heard from him.

“Perhaps.” Violet smiled, and Raja snorted, watching as Violet expertly opened the roll.

“Is it gonna hurt?” Raven asked, nails digging into Raja’s hand. 

“Yes,” Violet admitted, her tone flat, like she was simply stating the obvious. “But if you want to walk tomorrow-” 

“I do, I do!”

“Good.” Violet began wrapping Raven’s ankle, briefly catching Raja’s eyes, nodding her head slightly, clearly trying to tell her she needed to distract Raven.

Raja did her best, but it was impossible to concentrate when Raven let out whimpers of pain, and she ended up just stroking her hair gently while the brunette worked away. Finally, the whimpers began to fade. 

“Your toes are okay,” Violet proclaimed. “It’s not broken, and I don’t even think it’s a sprain. You’ll be able to walk just fine.” 

Raja breathed out a sigh of relief, only now noticing that Violet’s Dolce & Gabbana dress was touching the floor, but it didn’t look like it bothered the young woman at all that her clothes were getting dirty.

“You’re tough, Raven. You and I, we get it done because we have to, and you can do this. Let’s test it.”

Violet had finished wrapping Raven’s foot, and grabbed Raven’s hands, helping the other woman up as she carefully put pressure on her foot, not screaming in pain. 

“You should keep it elevated, and continue icing it as much as possible, but not more than fifteen minutes at a time-”

“Oh my god, Violet, I love you…I really fucking do!” Raven exclaimed. 

“It’s not that much-“

“No. Seriously, you have just earned yourself a best friend for life.” Raven pulled Violet in for a tight embrace before sitting back down, allowing Violet to refill the handkerchief with a fresh batch of ice.

“Don’t mention it.”

***

Pearl was standing outside of the hotel, being unreasonably slow as she lit her cigarette, doing her very best to drag it out for as long as possible.

She had put on one of her very best outfits, her ass looking like sin in the black leather pants she had struggled to get into, the fabric practically painted on.

Pearl knew that Fame was leaving the hotel at 9.45 sharp, and that Violet was always 10 minute early.

She hadn’t fully figured out yet exactly how she’d get Violet to talk to her, but she knew that she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, the sensation of Violet’s fingers on her skin still there.

Pearl was aware that she hadn’t acted her best, and while she didn’t initially agree that it was fair that Violet had freaked out about her kissing another girl at the Vogue party, Pearl had been able to find it in herself to forgive her.

“Oh-”

Pearl turned, a smile blooming on her face as she saw Violet, who had just exited the building. She was beautiful in the morning light, her dress of the day showing off her collarbones and the barest swell of her breasts perfectly. 

“Good morning, Pearl.”

Violet smiled, and Pearl smiled back, the easiness on Violet’s face filling her with warmth.

There was no way she’d be happy without making this gorgeous girl hers, and when Pearl Liaison decided she wanted something, she got it.

“Morning pumpkin.”

Violet didn’t flinch, didn’t look annoyed at the nickname, and Pearl could swear they were back to the good old days. Violet checked her phone, and Pearl see her relax, Fame probably still in her room. Violet sent off a quick message, looking up at Pearl. 

“Are you feeling any better?”

“Mmmh.” Pearl nodded. “Thanks to you.”

“I barely did anything.” Violet took a step forward, settling besides Pearl on the wall, the two of them chatting away, and Pearl knew without a doubt that she’d have Violet in her bed where she belonged before Paris was over. 

*** 

Courtney’s hands flew over the practically smoking keyboard as she tried to keep up with the barrage of emails from Violet. How was she able to send emails so fast, all while attending fashion shows? Shouldn’t she be sipping a café au lait or something? 

She felt like she hadn’t had a moment to breathe since yesterday morning, when she’d woken up at 4 am to message after message, an endless list of tasks to complete before she even had a chance to pee. Today was no different. She supposed that the entire week would be like this. At first, she’d had a faint hope that the time difference would mean going home early, but so far no such luck. Violet clearly expected her to be in the office until 7 just like always. 

Courtney groaned. It was only Tuesday and she was already so tired, so stressed, so aggravated. Any task that wasn’t an absolute emergency was getting put off, added to a to do list that was growing exponentially. She never thought she’d be praying for Fame and Violet to return to the office, but she couldn’t wait until this European extravaganza was over. 

Her phone rang, and she answered quickly, seeing that the call was coming from reception. 

“Yes?” 

_ “Come to the front desk,” _ Roxy said.  _ “There’s something I need to show you.”  _

“Now? But I just-” 

_ “Yeah, now. Hurry.”  _

The line went silent as she hung up. Courtney finished her email, made a note on her pad, and then heaved herself up from the desk, hurrying to reception to find out what could possibly be so urgent. 

“What’s going on?” she asked, confused by the giant grin on Roxy’s face. 

“Someone loves you,” Roxy said. 

Now, Courtney was really confused. Her brow furrowed deeply. 

“Huh?” 

Roxy rolled her eyes and gestured to a flower arrangement sitting on the ledge in front of her. It was a huge, extravagant flower arrangement of pink and champagne roses. It was so big that Courtney hadn’t even noticed it at first, mistaking it for part of the office decor. 

“Those are for  _ me _ ?” Courtney asked, eyes wide. 

“Yeah. And these too.” Roxy held out a huge gold box of chocolates. “For a second I wondered if it was Valentine’s Day. Then I remembered it’s fucking September.” 

Courtney stepped forward, pulling the card from the flowers and ripping open the envelope. 

“Who’re they from?”

_ To the most beautiful girl in the entire world, _

_ I know you’re stressed right now, so I hope these cheer you up. It’s only been 2 days but I already miss you like crazy, would give anything just to see your face. Don’t be a stranger. _

_ XO, _ _   
_ _ W _

_ P.S. Don’t worry, the chocolates are vegan.  _

A smile tugged at Courtney’s lips. She’d had another amazing date with Willam on Sunday, almost disgustingly adorable: an extended brunch, followed by hours of strolling through the park, fingers laced together, taking in the foliage already turning brilliant fall colors. She’d confided in him, even more than she had before, about all of the things weighing on her mind, all her secret dreams and hopes for the future. And he hadn’t interrupted her once, had been interested in all of it like nobody else she’d ever met. 

And at one point, standing on a little footbridge, breathing in the crisp autumn air, he’d kissed her. A sweet and tender kiss. It was strange: he had such a bold sense of humor, almost crude, but their relationship was the exact opposite. Chaste. Victorian, even. 

For someone used to being treated like a piece of meat, it was a lovely and refreshing change of pace, and Courtney found herself thinking that in fact, she was wrong to be worried about their supposed lack of passion. So he didn’t want to jump into bed right away--that was good! It gave them time to get to know each other. And she had to admit, it was a bit of a relief that he wasn’t only looking for sex; she could just relax and enjoy their time together without worrying about all the usual things. 

The truth, the  _ real _ truth, was that Courtney had never liked dating very much before. Oh sure, she enjoyed attention, being told she was beautiful, seeing the effect she had on boys. All of that was nice. But actually doing it: sitting through excruciating conversations about sports and cars and comic books or whatever the boys she dated happened to be obsessed with, listening to empty promises and fancy words when she knew for a fact that the only thing they wanted was between her legs. And the sex itself--never particularly satisfying, mostly just another thing she had to Get Through for any chance at being held (and even that was hit or miss). 

Courtney had been telling herself for years that it was the boys: she just somehow always ended up with shallow jerks and exhausting douchebags. Someday, she’d find a great guy, who was exciting and funny and considerate, who made her feel all those fluttery things that she was supposed to feel. 

Was Willam that guy? He certainly should be. He was kind and patient and objectively good-looking. It made Courtney a bit uneasy to think that maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe  _ she _ was the one with the problem. Maybe she was just incapable of the kind of epic romance that she’d always dreamed of. 

“Oh, just this guy I’m seeing.” For a moment, Courtney found herself wondering if she should use the word ‘boyfriend.’ It still felt too soon, but was it? He was certainly angling hard in that direction. 

“You must be  _ amazing _ in bed,” said Roxy. 

“We haven’t actually slept together yet,” Courtney told her, gathering the flowers and chocolates into her arms. Since Miss Fame was gone, nobody could stop her from keeping them in her office, so she could look at them anytime her day sucked. Which, if the week continued to go the way it had been, would be frequently.

“You haven’t slept together and he’s sending this shit?!” Roxy’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “Marry him!” 

Courtney laughed, rounding the corner back to her office and setting the roses down. She sighed happily, pulling out her cell to send Willam a thank you text, when her office phone began ringing. She dropped her cell, scrambling to pick up her headset, pulse quickening and stomach sinking when she saw that familiar number on the caller ID. 

“Hi, Violet…” Courtney closed her eyes as Violet began to rant at her about Fame’s latest emergency, bracing herself for an incredibly un-fun afternoon. 


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Willam continued to butter Courtney up, and both Pearl and Adore saw a glimmer of hope for their love lives.
> 
> This Chapter: A double date, some fashion week fun, and Willam prepares to strike gold.

Violet was following behind the maître d’, her phone pressed against her ear as she maneuvered through the restaurant.

“No, I’m telling you-” Violet hissed, trying her best to not draw the attention of the other guests, but she was burning with rage. She knew she was probably driving Courtney up the wall, but the other had been excruciatingly slow at answering Violet’s requests all day, and had taken ages to do even the easiest of tasks.

“Courtney. You’re not trying. You’re whining. Now figure it the fuck out. That’s your job.”

Violet spotted the back of Sutan’s head, hanging up the phone, hoping and praying that Courtney could handle a night on her own.

“Hi-” Violet pressed a quick kiss against his cheek, the short stubble tickling her lips.

“Hey.”

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I really tried to be on time-”

Sutan put a hand on her knee, and Violet could see that he was just about to open his mouth, when she heard another voice at the table, her entire body running cold. 

“Well well, look who’s ravishing in red.”

Seated right across from her, were none other than Raja and Raven. They looked out of this world, their outfits completing each other perfectly.

There were no traces of sarcasm or ridicule in Raven’s silky voice, but Violet still reached up, quickly touching her cheek, trying to feel if it was warm, if she was blushing. 

It seemed like Raven’s words were just a compliment to her dress, her outfit a lot more glamorous than usual, but it was Fashion Week, and Fame expected everyone to look their best.

“Hello Raja. Hello Raven.” 

Violet had no idea what to say. She had nothing prepared, hadn’t expected to be ambushed in this manner, roped into what was essentially a meet the family with a man who she liked a lot, but who she wasn’t even calling her boyfriend yet.

“Hello darling. Please, sit,” Raven said. 

“I’m-” Violet grasped for words, her stomach tight. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Oh don’t mind that.” Raven smiled, waving her hand, her rings glittering in the light. “Right Raja?”

“Of course.” Raja nodded, and while she didn’t look unfriendly, Violet couldn’t help but squirm under her gaze, feeling every bit like a deer caught in headlights. “Tan, for god’s sake!”

“What?” Sutan looked at his sister.

“Didn’t you tell Violet that we’d be joining?” 

“She’s met you two before?” Sutan shrugged, truly looking like a man who wasn’t even considering he could have done anything wrong. “I figured she wouldn’t mind.”

“It’s fine.” Violet lied, sitting down. “It’s a very nice surprise.”

Raja let out a dry chuckle, saying, “Oh, I’m sure it is,” before taking a sip of her wine. “Let’s get you a drink, stat.” 

She signaled for the waiter. 

“We’re doing the tasting menu and wine pairing. Would you like that? Or some other cocktail?” 

“We’ve only had one course so far,” Sutan said. “I saved your portion.” 

He pushed a little plate towards Violet, and her brow furrowed. On the plate was a spoon, filled with several mysterious and unrecognizable items with a decidedly fishy smell, surrounded by red dots of some kind of sauce. 

“Oh, uh…” 

“If you don’t want it, Violet, I’ll eat it for you,” Raven offered kindly, a grin spreading across her face as she reached across the table for her plate.

Violet knew she had done her a favor when she had fixed up her foot, Sutan more than thankful once they had made it back home, but it was still strange to be on the receiving end of such instant affection.

“No way,” Sutan said, intercepting the plate, taking it from Raven’s hand. “And no more bread, either. You still have runways to walk.”

“Please-” Raven huffed. “You’re not my mom.”

“I’m not, but I am your manager, and someone-” Sutan shot a look at his sister, “has been very indulgent.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Raja smiled, shrugging her shoulders as she took a sip of her wine. “Chocolate for breakfast is a champion’s choice.”

Violet could feel that an argument could potentially be underway, so she quickly spoke up.

“It’s okay. I don’t need a tasting menu.”

It wasn’t until everyone’s attention turned to Violet, that she realized the mistake she had made by speaking up. Violet was just about to say something, anything, when the waiter appeared. 

“What do you think, Violet? Wine pairing, or something else? They have a lovely blood orange martini if you like sweet drinks.” 

“Yeah, and vodka soda if you have to save your calories for dessert,” Raven grumbled. 

“Is it okay if I start with water, I only just arrive-”

“There’s no need to be so formal around us, Violet,” Raja said, a teasing drawl in her voice. “At least not when I’m off the clock.”

“Thank you.” Violet couldn’t help but dig her nails into her palm under the table, the surprise double date beyond tense.

“Don’t thank me.” Raja was cut off as another course arrived at the tables, and Violet was ever so happy to be out of the spotlight--even if none of the words the waiter used to describe the food were familiar, Violet quickly begging off in french when he turned his attention to her.

“You know french?” Raven smiled. “Have you been to Paris before?”

“No, I, umh, it never, it didn’t really-“

“So, is everyone ready for all of this to be over?” Sutan looked around, and Violet was once again thankful for his easy temperament, and his warm moods.

“I swear, if I have to talk to another model about how interesting feathers are or how she just ‘looooves’ Paris I’m going to stab myself,” Raja groaned, nibbling on what Violet hoped was an edible garnish.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love talking to models, it brings you back to your glory days.” Raven laughed, nudging Raja’s side. 

“If you say so,” Raja replied with an eye roll. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, Tuhan aku rindu amerika”

Sutan snorted loudly, his sister apparently saying something hilarious in Indonesian.

“Don’t mind them,” Raven smiled, and Violet felt a little bit better. She bit her lip, realizing that she hadn’t even touched her plate. She looked down, trying to spot something resembling food, but the entire situation was just so bizarre she couldn’t focus on eating.

“So,” Raven popped something crunchy into her mouth. “Have you been to his apartment yet?”

“Yes?” Violet didn’t really understand the question.

“Well, you’re lucky to have the place to yourself!” Raven chuckled. “When I first started dating Raja, they were still living together.”

“Raven, we really don’t have to discuss this-” Sutan began, clearly trying to cut in.

“I swear I sometimes felt like the 3rd wheel, instead of Sutan being the odd one out!”

“Really?” Violet looked over at Sutan, who just shrugged and smiled.

“It’s not normal to have your sister as your roomie in your 30’s, Amrull.”

“Hey-” Sutan pointed at Raven with his fork. “Why would I live with a stranger, when I had Raja?”

“Because you were a fully grown adult?” 

“How come you never ride Raja’s dick?”

“Oh I do.” Raven smirked, shooting Violet a look that was filled with mischief and glee. “I absolutely do.”

***

Willam gripped his drink, trying not to stress. It was weird that he hadn’t heard from Courtney yet. The delivery notification came just after 1 pm, and it was almost 6. She must have seen the flowers by now, right? He’d shot off a vague “thinking of you” text around 3, just to check in, and another one at almost 5, saying “hope everything is okay.” 

He knew she was busy. She’d whined to him for almost a half hour the night before about how stressed she was. But this silence made him deeply paranoid. Had he gone too far? Had he scared her off? 

Willam knew that this week was essential. With Miss Fame and Violet both out of town, it was the best shot he had to get into the office and dig around. But in order to do that, he needed Courtney to invite him. He needed her to be so absolutely gaga for him that he could distract her, that she’d go along with anything he suggested. 

Everything, everything he’d planned hinged on this. So of course he’d gone big. The flowers, the candy, the disgustingly mushy note. 

Was it too much? Why were women so fucking difficult to understand?

He signaled the bartender, shoving the phone into his pocket. He couldn’t possibly send three messages in a row, not when she’d ignored the first 2. 

(At least they weren’t on read, which was the only thing preventing full-on paranoia at the moment.) 

After three more cocktails, his racing thoughts finally began to quiet down. He almost didn’t notice the phone buzzing in his pocket, but after about 4 rings, he managed to get it out.

“Hello?” 

_ “Bill! Omigod, I’m so, so sorry!”  _

“Hey baby,” Willam cooed, the real relief at finally hearing from her making his job much easier. “How’s it going?” 

_ “Fine, it was another crazy day, but I just have to tell you how absolutely perfect the flowers are! And the chocolates! You’re the  _ best _ , thank you so much.”  _

“It was nothing,” Willam told her. 

_ “No, you don’t understand. It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, and I just...I was about to message you to say thank you ,hours ago but then Violet called and there’s some huge fiasco with Miss Fame’s hotel room and then the phone kept ringing off the hook and before I knew it, it was 7. But you have to know how much I love them. I’m so sorry for not calling sooner.”  _

She sounded genuinely distressed, and Willam smiled. He could certainly use this to his advantage. 

“Baby, it’s fine, I know things are tough this week. It’s why I sent them.” 

_ “Thank you. Yeah, it’s…” _ Courtney sighed. 

“So I supposed whisking you away for lunch is out of the question, then.”

Courtney let out a dry chuckle before saying,  _ “Yeah. I can’t even get to the cafeteria in the building. I’m sorry.”  _

“Well…” Willam took a deep breath. This was his chance. “I might have another idea…” 

***

Sutan watched out of the corner of his eye, tapping the foam off of his shaver on the edge of the sink, as Violet was carefully touching up her lashes. 

They were standing side by side at his ensuites bathroom’s double sink, Violet’s adorably small makeup purse at her elbow as she was putting on her face for the day.

It was strange to be around a woman who was so comfortable in allowing him to see her without makeup. Sure, Violet had her lashes and brows professionally done, the touch of a competent cosmetologist all over them, but even though Sutan tried to remember back, he couldn’t actually pinpoint the last time any of his hookups or girlfriends had been so relaxed.

Violet was wearing a sheer morning robe in light lilac, a fresh pair of satin black underwear on underneath, but she had opted out of a bra, and Sutan was definitely not one to complain about that.

He had invited Violet out to dinner last night, Raja and Raven giggling as they got in their own car to go to some party Raven had been invited to, but he had just wanted to go home, Violet thankfully right behind him.

“Sutan-”

“Mmmh?” 

“Stop staring.” Violet was applying mascara to her long lashes, her pink mouth hanging open. “You’re distracting me.”

If Sutan was one to feel shame, he was pretty sure it would have hit him in that moment, instead, he simply smiled, wiggling his brow.

“Am not.”

“Are too.” Violet finished her right eye, their gazes meeting in the mirror, and then, they were laughing.

“Sorry.” Sutan leaned over, pressing a kiss against Violet’s cheek, pure white foam clinging to her skin as he pulled away.

“Sutan!” Violet gasped, her voice filled with indigent offense. “Look at what you did.”

She reached up to wipe the foam away, but Sutan caught her hand, spinning her around and grabbing her ass, hosting her up and putting her down on the edge of the sink.

Violet’s protests were swallowed by a kiss, foam now all over her face. 

“Mmh.”

Violet was always so wonderfully soft, her mouth opening as Sutan deepened the kiss, her arms coming up and around his shoulders, her fingers finding his hair.

Sutan pushed at her legs, asking for entrance that Violet granted, her thighs parting and allowing him to press close, the cold silk of his pajama pants meeting the hotness of her core.

Violet whined, the note high, and Sutan followed it’s guide. He kissed her neck, the skin there so delightfully sensitive. 

“Please-” Violet swallowed a moan, her hand on his arm pulling him closer. Sutan chuckled, every sound he could from the gorgeous girl in his arms the perfect way to spend his time.

***

“Ugh!” Courtney groaned in frustration, as her email to Miss Fame’s hotel concierge bounced back for the third time. She’d already asked them twice to confirm their email address, but between the thick French accent and Courtney’s mad rush to get the email out in time for them to print Fame’s new schedule before she returned to change for her afternoon shows, she must have written it down wrong. 

She pulled up the hotel number to call once again, when she saw her personal cell ringing and decided to take a break and answer instead. After all, everything had already gone wrong today, and it was already probably going to be late by the time they printed it and delivered to her...what was a few more minutes? 

She reached for her phone, answering with a relieved, “Thank god you called. Today  _ sucks _ . Violet keeps sending me these novel-length emails of instructions and I honestly have no idea how she can type so fast on her phone.” 

“Aww, I’m sorry, babe. I wish I could be there to make it all better,” Willam said. 

He was honestly so supportive, it almost made Courtney want to cry with gratitude. She tapped her pen against the desk, thinking to herself before she responded again. 

“Hey, uh...remember how I told you on Monday that you coming to the office with a picnic lunch would be a terrible idea and you shouldn’t do it because it would distract me too much?” 

“Yeah,” Willam said, then asked hopefully, “Did you realize that it’s actually a great idea?” 

“Oh no, it’s still a terrible idea,” Courtney said with a laugh. “But...I think maybe we should do it anyway. Even if I end up getting in trouble, it’ll be worth it to see you.” 

“I’ll be there by 1!” Willam said. 

“Better make it 2. Hopefully she’ll be heading to dinner by then,” Courtney told him. 

“You got it, boss.”

***

Violet closed her eyes, her fingers running along the row of gowns, the fabrics all so very different to the touch.

She was in a vintage store, high fashion all around her. She had recognised a Valentino piece the moment she stepped in, had seen Balmain hang side by side with Versace and Prada.

Fame was at the show across the street, and while Violet knew Fame expected her to be there, to stand against the back wall ready to adhere to her every command, she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Paris without at least looking at the clothes that were on offer.

Violet’s wardrobe was essentially all made up of vintage and second hand pieces, the only newer things she owned from whenever Ivy cleaned out the closet. 

Everything in the store was all absolutely stunning, stuffed full of the fashion Violet could still only dream of. Even though everything was second hand, it was all way out of her price range, what she made on an assistant salary combined with the cost of living in New York and her student loans meaning she could only buy a very few select pieces each month. 

What she could afford rarely fitted her, but Violet was nothing if not resourceful, a needle and thread easily transforming things that were outdated to something she could be seen in without embarrassing herself.

Fame had never noticed, had never commented on the fact that Violet’s wardrobe wasn’t the newest trends, though it could be that she was just indifferent as long as Violet managed to fade into the background whenever it was needed.

Violet could feel her fingers touch silk, and she instantly pulled on the fabric, a small gasp leaving her as the most gorgeous dusty lilac Gucci dress. 

Gucci wasn’t a brand Violet wore a lot, their aesthetic too bold and bright for her taste, but this was absolutely perfect.

Violet was already aware that it would break her heart, knew that the prices were jacked up because of Fashion Week, but she reached for the price tag anyway, her lip between her teeth.

2000 dollars.

Violet could feel the sour taste of disappointment, the bitterness of the fact that she’d have to let it go, but there was no way she could fit it into her budget, even if she ate nothing but instant mashed from now and until December.

She released the dress, allowing it to fall back in the rack, and continued her search for something she could let Sutan see her in, the man actually noticing what she was wearing, and her wardrobe was becoming dangerously empty of appropriate date night outfits.

***

“The divorce has really been terrible for her skin…” 

Bianca took a sip of her cocktail, cackling deviously at Fame’s comment about the former model, wannabe handbag designer, who’d just walked by. 

After so many years of friendship, Bianca’s favorite moments with Fame were still always when the perfectly put-together blonde let her guard down, allowing her true and hilarious self to shine through the cracks in her beautiful facade. 

“Please.”

Fame blinked innocently, adding, “I’m just stating facts.” 

“Sure, blondie…” Bianca reached across the little table to pat her hand, delighted by the little flicker of wickedness in her grey eyes. Beside her, Adore heaved a giant sigh--her third in the last five minutes. Bianca had ignored the first two, but now turned to her, slightly irritated. “Adore, please stop pouting. It’s getting extremely tiresome.” 

“I’m not pouting!” Adore said, crossing her arms. Fame smiled, hiding her grin behind her drink.

“I don’t get why you’re in such a shitty mood, either. Two days ago, you were through the roof giddy. Clearly, whatever girl you’re chasing isn’t worth it.” 

“Ughhhh…” Adore groaned, falling back on the couch.

“My recommendation is to find another bitch,” Bianca said, taking another slug of her drink, ignoring Fame’s disapproving head shake. “It shouldn’t be hard, look around! They’re literally everywhere.” 

“Have you ever considered just showing empathy?” Adore whined. 

“Have you ever considered the fact that you may be bipolar?” Bianca shot back. 

“Bianca, leave her alone.” Fame smiled, “Don’t you remember being young and in love?” 

Bianca took another sip of her drink, considering the question thoughtfully before saying, “...no.” 

“Hmm…” Fame twirled the stem of her champagne glass. “Maybe that’s because you struck out anytime you went after someone with substance?”

“Ha!” Adore laughed, glad for the change in tone. Few people could get away with teasing her sister the way Fame could, and it was always fun.

“Fuck you very much, I did not,” Bianca defended, knocking her knee against Fame. 

“Mmmm…” Fame’s eyes glittered, enjoying the rise she got out of Bianca. 

“Look, I was never into all that touchy-feely shit,” Bianca said. “You know that.” 

“Wasn’t into it,” Fame took a delicate sip of champagne, “or couldn’t achieve it?”

“The first one, cunt. Don’t try to rewrite history.” Bianca leaned forward, eyes narrowed. 

“Me? I would never,” Fame said with an arched brow, her mouth open in a mock gasp.

“Yeah, right.” Bianca tossed a wink in Fame’s direction and turned back to her sister. “But seriously, Adore, lighten up. Check out all the talent.” Bianca spread her arms, gesturing to some nearby models. “It’s like a buffet.” 

Fame clucked disapprovingly, mouth turned down in a frown. 

“I’m not like you,” said Adore. “I don’t just want to fuck some rando.” 

“Suit yourself…” Bianca continued to gaze around the room, eventually catching the eye of a sultry blonde, leaning against the bar. She tossed back the rest of her drink before sliding out of her seat, eyes still locked with the blonde’s. “...And don’t wait up. Goodnight kids.” 

***

Paris was turning out to be slightly different than Katya had planned. 

Of course, it was wonderful to see Trixie every day once again. To touch him and smell him and sleep with his arms wrapped around her. And she was delighted by the unexpected engagement--even if the thought of marriage was a little weird and scary. 

But by Wednesday evening, wandering around Paris on her own had lost some of the charm. She understood that Trixie and Pearl and everyone had to work, that this was an extremely busy and important fashion time, or whatever. She just wished it was a little different--not that she would ever voice that. 

The last thing she wanted was to make Trixie feel guilty. 

She didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but she couldn’t help feeling a little lonely, a little isolated, a little anxious. 

Katya was excited to see the message from Violet, hoping that maybe it was an invite somewhere, a chance to hang out and chat and have something to focus on besides her own repetitive thoughts. But when she read it, it was simply a list of potential locations for the engagement party she supposed she had to plan, since Fame was so gung ho about it. 

And while Katya appreciated the sentiment, the thought of anything wedding-related made her uneasy. She wanted to enjoy just being engaged for a bit without thinking about all that. Wanted to practice saying the word “fiancé” without giggling nervously and rolling her eyes. Trixie deserved that much, at the very least. 

She sighed, setting her phone face down on the little café table and turning to watch the pedestrians, an activity that she’d been doing for most of the day, biding her time until Trixie was finally free to join her. 

***

Something was decidedly different about Willam today. From the second he arrived, he had his hands on Courtney: arms wrapped around her waist, pressing her into the desk, face buried in her neck. In a way, it was a bit of a relief. It was certainly more like what she was used to from boys, and gave her tired mind a break from second-guessing everything about their relationship--even if it was kind of awkward. 

The problem was, her office was right up front, with two walls made of glass. Anyone coming to or from reception could see them. And even though Fame and some of the senior staff were in Paris, there were still plenty of people in New York who she knew would be all too happy to rat her out. 

“What’s the matter, baby?” Willam asked, lips trailing along her jaw. “Didn’t you miss me?” 

“Yeah, I just…” Courtney bit her lip. “I’m just worried that someone will see us. I’m not really supposed to have my boyfriend over here during the work day.” 

The word had slipped out by accident.  _ Boyfriend _ . As soon as she said it, Courtney’s cheeks began to burn. 

“I mean, like, date,” she stammered. “Sorry, I know it’s still soon to say-” 

“Hey, Court?” Willam interrupted, a smile on his lips. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m glad you said it.” 

“You are?” she asked. 

“Yeah…” He caressed her cheeks with his thumbs, then leaned in slowly to kiss her. 

“Wait.” Courtney stopped him, anxiety still gnawing at her stomach. “Not here. I’m sorry.” 

“Well...is there anywhere we could go that’s maybe more private?” Willam glanced around. 

“Ummm...”

There was, of course, one perfectly private place for them to go. She looked at the closed door to Fame’s office, biting her lip. Should she dare? She’d probably be breaking the strictest rule in the office. 

Violet would absolutely murder her if she ever found out. 

Of course, there was a lot less chance of being caught in there. It was secluded and practically sound proof. 

She considered it for a few moments before nodding decisively. “Follow me…” 

***

This was his shot. Maybe his only shot, and Willam knew he had to make it count, had to convince Courtney that he was here for her and her alone. He kicked the office door shut, then turned to her, grabbing her by the waist. What now? 

There was a brief, undetectable (or so he hoped) flash of panic. He didn’t have a plan for this part. What do straight guys even  _ do _ with girls? Was he gonna have to fuck her? This was all getting completely out of control. 

“Sorry, I, uh…” Willam flashed what he hoped was a charming grin. “I lost my train of thought there. You’re just so beautiful…” 

It seemed to work, made her smile up at him. 

“Come here…” Courtney took Willam’s hand and led him to Fame’s sofa, pushing him down by the shoulders. “Is this better?” 

“Yeah, it’s…” Willam’s heart raced as Courtney straddled him on the sofa, pressing soft kisses against his mouth, fingers tangling into his hair. “It’s great…” 

“Mmm…” 

It wasn’t too bad, actually. She was soft and warm and smelled good--kind of sweet and floral, like honeysuckle or orange blossoms. He had a strange thoughts, for a moment, that maybe this is what those gay conversion camps were all about. Getting you to see that you could handle a het relationship, could manage to make a baby or two, without throwing up. 

(He assumed that those converted gays still got what they really needed on the down-low. Right?) 

As strange as it was to have a girl in his arms, pressing a thigh up against his dick, moaning softly into his mouth, he knew that this was an unfortunately essential part of the plan. So he rolled with the punches, first clutching her waist and then daring to move his hands down to her ass. And this, the making out, seemed to satisfy her for now, clearly getting her hot and bothered. Which was a tremendous relief, since it meant he didn’t have to think about the condoms in his pocket. The travel bottle of lube that he was still unsure of--did girls need lube? 

He tried to concentrate, bide his time, wait for the perfect chance to make the final move. It happened sooner than he planned, when Courtney bolted upright in his lap. 

“Do you hear that?” she whispered fiercely. 

“Oh, uh…” Willam craned his neck, hearing the footsteps growing closer. 

A voice called out, “Courtney?!” and she grimaced, turning her head back towards the bullpen. 

“Don’t move,” she whispered softly, rising to her feet and straightening out her skirt. “I’m just gonna go take care of that. I’ll be back soon, I promise.” 

“Do whatever you need,” Willam said, kissing her hand before releasing her, flashing a bright smile. “I’ll be waiting, thinking about how perfect you are.” 

Absolutely  _ perfect _ . 


	30. Willam's True Colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Willam finally got into Fame’s office, and Pearl got back on track with Violet--or so she thought. 
> 
> This Chapter: Courtney and Pearl are both in for a very rude awakening, but someone is in the right place at the right time.

Courtney hurried out of Fame’s office, shutting the door firmly behind her. 

“Oh, hey.” Alaska looked up from her desk, where she was writing a note. “I thought you’d stepped out, so I was...is everything okay? You look like you’ve been running.”

Courtney hated to lie, and especially to Alaska, who’d been so wonderful to her, but she didn’t know what else to do.

“Oh, yeah, I was just, um, doing some deep cleaning so that everything will be nice when Miss Fame comes back. More strenuous work than I expected…” She gave a nervous laugh. 

“Okay…” Alaska pressed her lips together, clearly not 100% convinced, but thankfully willing to let it drop for now. “I came to talk about Miss Fame’s schedule, because we’re starting that campaign and she’s the most important part of it.” 

“Right, of course.” Courtney scurried into her desk chair, trying not to worry about Willam, trapped in Fame’s office, just hoping he’d stay quiet until Alaska’s business was through, when she’d hurry him out. 

It was a terrible idea, inviting him here, and she already regretted it. When they spoke this morning, she thought that having him come by would be a nice break in the day, something that would make her feel good, but instead the whole thing was just an anxious nightmare, completely not worth it. 

Alaska dragged over a seat and pulled out her notebook as Courtney opened her calendar. It took them a few minutes, but finally, she seemed satisfied with the tentative dates that Courtney provided. 

“I think we can make it work,” she sighed, sitting back. “I didn’t think about what a logistical nightmare this would be when I pitched the idea.” 

Courtney smiled. “It’s a good idea, though. I mean, that’s why people are buying Galactica makeup, right? So that they can pretend, even just for a little while, that they’re as glamorous as Miss Fame?” 

“Exactly.” Alaska smiled at her. “So…I believe we owe ourselves a tea party, don’t we?” 

“Oh, um…” Courtney’s gaze shifted to Miss Fame’s office, where she knew Willam was still waiting. 

“Come on, you can take a little break. After all, it’s almost 9 pm in Paris, right?” 

“Yeah, true.” Courtney sighed. Willam would be fine, he’d just have to wait. “I’ll go turn on the kettle.” 

She rose and walked towards the little kitchenette, Alaska following her to assist, helping her get cups and saucers down from the shelf, putting everything on a tray. Alaska was truly different than the other executives at this company, who always expected to be served. It wasn’t that Courtney minded doing it--after all, that was her job--it was just that some people had the tendency to look right through her, barely acknowledging her as a person. It got a little tedious after awhile. 

Alaska was different, despite being a department head. She always looked right into her eyes when they spoke, always said thank you when anyone gave her anything, and lent a hand whenever she could. 

“So...how’s it been going? You’re been here for awhile, are you settling in okay?” Alaska asked. 

“Yeah, it’s been...I think I’m starting to get the hang of things.” 

“I bet you’re enjoying the freedom of having the boss lady out of town, huh?” Alaska’s brown eyes twinkled conspiratorially. 

“Well, uh...actually, it’ll be nice to have them back,” Courtney said honestly. “I mean, I’ll definitely be super relieved when Violet’s back.” 

“Yeah, I imagine that running the office on your own is a handful,” Alaska said, stirring her tea thoughtfully. 

“Mmhmm…” Courtney took a sip of her tea, wishing once again that she worked for Alaska. She was so kind and understanding. 

The sound of muffled, distant clattering made Alaska’s head snap up sharply, and Courtney cringed inwardly. 

“Did you hear that?” 

“Hear what?” Courtney asked, twirling a lock of blonde hair in her fingers. 

“It sounded like it was coming from inside Miss Fame’s office,” Alaska said. 

“Oh, um, I don’t think that’s…” It was no use. The bright pink flush creeping into her cheeks was a dead giveaway, and as Courtney trailed off, Alaska put her hands on her hips. 

“Who’s in there, Courtney?” 

Courtney gulped, admitting, “My boyfriend…” 

“Ugh, Courtney…” Alaska clucked disapprovingly, walking over to the door, using the key card clipped to Courtney’s skirt to open the door. “You!” 

She pointed at Willam, who was busily cleaning up papers he’d somehow knocked off Miss Fame’s desk. 

“Playtime’s over. Say goodbye and be on your way.” Alaska snapped her fingers and Willam hurried out of the office. 

“I’m sorry, Alaska, I know it was stupid, please don’t tell-” Courtney began, but Alaska was scrutizing Willam with narrowed eyes. 

“What’s your name?” she asked, and he blanched, but Courtney quickly stood in front of him. 

“It’s not his fault. I’m the one who suggested we go into the office. I just wanted a few minutes of privacy, but I know it was dumb.” She turned to Willam, saying, “You should go. I’ll call you later.” 

Willam nodded, bolting from the office quickly, practically running to get to the elevators. Even though that’s what Courtney had asked him to do, she couldn’t help be a little annoyed at how eagerly he’d gone, a strange spring in his step, not looking the slightest bit regretful. But there wasn’t time to dwell on that right now. 

Courtney faced Alaska again, steeling her shoulders, prepared for the worst. 

“Are you gonna tell on me?” 

Alaska tapped her long nails against Courtney’s desk, thinking. 

“I know that kid.” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah, but I just can’t remember how…” She squinted, trying to place him. 

“Well, maybe you-”

“Oh, shit.” Alaska pulled up her phone, tapping away on the screen, making Courtney grow agitated. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Hoping I’m wrong, for your sake…” Alaska finally found what she’s looking for, heaving a deep sigh. “Here.”

She slid the phone across the desk, over to where Courtney stood. 

“I knew I’d seen him around. His husband is an accountant, he does my taxes.” 

“Husband?” A terrible, terrible feeling began to creep into Courtney’s stomach. Willam was  _ married _ ? To a  _ man _ ?

“Yeah.” 

Courtney picked the phone up slowly. That was Willam, alright. Willam with his arms wrapped around a handsome older man, Willam with the same man and a group of other guys on the beach, Willam with the man and a huge Saint Bernard. 

A million confusing thoughts swirled in Courtney’s head, and she sat down heavily, trying to make heads or tails of them. Was Willam cheating on his husband with her? And if he was, why the slow, chaste, Victorian courtship? Even today, in Miss Fame’s office,  _ she _ was the one who took things to the next level. She was the one grinding against him, trying desperately to feel something, to prove to herself that this was more than just a platonic relationship. 

She’d known, of course, that their (lack of) chemistry was weird. But she thought it was due to Willam being respectful, and to her own hang-ups about guys. She swallowed down the lump in her throat. 

“I think you better ask your boyfriend some questions, Courtney,” Alaska said, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

“Yeah.” 

What she really needed was to talk to someone about this. Someone who understood her, someone who could help her sort through her confusion. After Alaska left the office, she immediately went to her purse to pull out her personal cell, calling the one person she knew could help her feel less alone. 

***

“And this one,” Pearl grinned. She was showing Violet the photos she had taken that day, their legs pressed together. “Matches her dog perfectly.”

“What?” Violet looked up from her vodka cranberry, a smile on her lips, and Pearl couldn’t get over how sweet she was, how beautiful she looked. 

They were sitting at the bar at an overly fancy cocktail hour, both of them waiting for Fame. They were on the outskirts of the party, everyone else rubbing elbows and kissing ass, but Pearl didn’t care about any of that, not when she had Violet’s attention.

It felt great to finally be okay again, to be them. Pearl flirted with a lot of different women, and had slept with quite a few since that fateful night at the Fashion Fund party, but this was something else, something special.

“I’m serious.” Pearl smiled, and Violet reached out, trying to grab the phone, her chest bumping against her arm. 

Pearl didn’t want to be too forward in her advances, they had a week in the city of love after all, but if the way Violet’s eyes shone was any indication, if the giggle in her voice held any promise at all, they’d be curled up in bed together soon enough.

“Damn pumpkin, getting frisky huh?” Pearl raised an eyebrow, making sure that Violet saw that she was attempting to look down her top.

“Pearl-” Violet groaned, sitting up straight, holding a hand in front of herself to make sure Pearl couldn’t see anything at all.

“Just wanted to check if you were wearing a bra.” Pearl grinned, the fact that Violet was blushing the exact reaction she had gunned for.

It felt great to be back on track, to be able to play Violet again, the other woman so perfectly easy once Pearl wormed her way under her skin.

“You do know that Galactica has a strict policy about appropriate public behavior.” Pearl reached for her drink, making sure that her leg was glued to Violet’s. She couldn’t remember much from when Violet had fixed her up, but she did remember the other woman nagging her about the company guidelines.

“Please.” Violet rolled her eyes, but Pearl could see the smile lurking in the corner of her mouth. “Like you ever cared for a policy in your life.”

“Oh I care, Violet.” Pearl smirked. “I care very, very deeply.”

Violet snorted, a short laugh leaving her. “Show me the photo.”

“Ask nicely.”

“You’re so annoying.” Violet went for the phone again, but Pearl put an arm around her back, her hand resting on her hip. 

“You love me.” Pearl grinned as she tilted her phone, showing Violet the photo of a woman who was wearing an outfit entirely with black and white polkadots, a dalmatian sitting by her side.

“Oh my god.” Violet looked up, a gigantic smile on her lips. “This is amazing!”

Pearl grinned, turning slightly so she could rest her cheek against Violet’s head, the smell of her hair in her nose. It was incredibly intimate, Violet flicking through her phone.

She could stay here forever, Violet commenting on everyone’s outfits, fashion a subject she could discuss endlessly.

“So,” Pearl used her free hand to reach up, gently touching Violet’s hair as she tucked it behind her ear.

“Hey,” Violet giggled, trying to twist away , but Pearl held her close, “that tickles-”

“Violet,” Pearl twisted her upper body, Violet looking straight at her. “Do you want to-”

In that exact moment, Violet’s phone started vibrating, and Pearl groaned.

Violet raised a brow, clearly not understanding why Pearl was acting that way as she reached for her phone. 

“You don’t have to take the call.” Pearl tried to put her hand on top of Violet’s, “We’re having fun, right?”

“Pearl,” Violet sighed, evading her hand. “Please.” 

Violet took her phone, turning the screen. Pearl had expected it to be Fame, for Violet to look exasperated, but instead, her entire face lit up as she accepted the call.

“Hello?” Violet smiled. 

“Who are you talking to?”

Violet ignored Pearl, not answering her question. 

“Mmh. Yes. Yes, I’m at the bar. Where are you?” 

She stood up, shaking Pearl’s hand off before she turned around. 

“Ah!” Violet grinned. “I see you.”

Without as much as looking at her, Violet left, not even giving Pearl the chance to say anything else.

Pearl turned, confused and annoyed at what could possibly have captured Violet’s attention so thoroughly.

Violet was making a beeline towards Sutan Amrull, stopping in front of him, eyes bright as she eagerly chatted. Pearl had no idea they even knew each other, and Violet never talked like that to anybody, barely even her. 

Sutan was Raja’s twin though, so Pearl decided to let it go, the two of them probably discussing something boring and business related.

She had decided not to watch, when Sutan placed an arm around Violet's waist, pulling her in, and Pearl felt her body light on fire. 

She was ready to get up, willing to make it a fight if she had to, no one else allowed to touch her Violet like that, good reputations be damned, but then, insteading of struggling to get away, Violet leaned in, placing a sweet but quick kiss against Sutan’s lips, causing Sutan to laugh.

Pearl felt her jaw drop, her fingers tightening around her glas. 

What the fuck? Was Violet with Sutan?

Pearl bit her lip, hurt rushing over her, her stomach clenching. 

Had she been acting a fool?

Pearl Liaison always got what she wanted, but as she watched Violet, a sense of dread settled over her.

Sutan had to have been the man at the bar. There was no other way around it, all the puzzle pieces falling into place.

Pearl emptied her drink in one big gulp, the alcohol burning on its way down. She flagged the bartender, ordering another drink, determined to drown her sorrows.

She had decided on alcohol, had figured that would be the quickest way to forget how humiliated she felt, but as Pearl made her way through her third cocktail, she spotted Adore from across the bar, the other woman in deep conversation with Raven.

***

Adore was in ecstasy, finally getting the attention from Pearl that she’d been craving, not even caring that it was happening pressed against the sinks in a club bathroom. Her mind was empty of everything except Pearl’s fingers expertly working her into a quivering mess, those sleepy, knowing eyes raking over her body as she arched into Pearl’s touch. 

It was so hot, the way Pearl had caught her eye and then marched over, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her roughly into the nearby restroom. The dominant, brooding energy she was exuding right now was everything Adore wanted, made her heart pound with excitement and just a perfect hint of fear. 

“Someone’s obsessed with you,” Pearl murmured into her ear, making her shiver. 

“Mmm?”

“You’re buzzing out of control,” Pearl clarified, gesturing to the phone in Adore’s jacket pocket. 

“Oh...sorry.” 

Adore pulled the phone out, quickly shutting it off and stuffing it back into her pocket just as Pearl’s fingers curled against her g-spot, making her cry out. Whoever was trying to reach her would just have to understand. 

“Omigod, Pearl, yes! Right there…” Adore moaned. 

“Come for me, baby,” Pearl husked into her ear, then sank her teeth into a particularly tender spot on her neck. 

Adore gasped, hips rolling, fingers tangled in Pearl’s hair. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming...oh gooood…”

***

Willam was  _ so _ screwed. On the subway, he’d gleefully clicked through all of the pictures, only to have his heart fall further and further with every one. The whole mission had been absolutely futile. Page after page of design ideas, marketing notes. The only thing remotely scandalous was a vibrator in the bottom drawer of her desk, a locked part he had to jimmy open with a paperclip, but even that amounted to a big Who Cares. 

Certainly not groundbreaking journalism. 

But he couldn’t give up. Not when he’d come so far. There had to be something. So he took a deep breath and fired off a few texts to Courtney. 

_ WILLAM: Hey beautiful, so sorry for racing out like that _

_ WILLAM: I hope I didn’t get you in trouble _

_ WILLAM: Are you okay, baby?  _

The response had been entirely unlike her. ‘Meet me at Radicchio. 7.’ 

No emojis, no exclamation points - nothing cute or flirty to tell him that things were still good. Which meant that they probably weren’t. That this wasn’t gonna be a nice, normal date, but in fact a Serious Talk, which was just not something Willam had prepared for in this plan. 

Part of Willam thought he should just ignore it. Cut ties, walk away, be done with the whole thing. File this one as a loss and move on. But the stubborn part still didn’t want to give up. He’d lost his fucking job over this story, how could he just drop it without a second thought? So she might be mad, he might need to do a little damage control. He could handle that, right? 

When Courtney entered the restaurant, he was already sitting at a booth waiting, hands folded in front of him. He jumped up, moving to give her a hug, but she avoided him and instead sat down, stone-faced.

Courtney didn’t remove her jacket or take her purse off her shoulder. More very bad signs. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Willam asked carefully, reaching for her hand. “I’m sorry for leaving you, I didn’t think it would help you to make a scene, I just-”

“Are you married?” 

Willam flinched. He’d been so incredibly careful to mask his personal life. He’d deleted his Facebook account, only communicating through that fake Instagram he’d set up to talk to her. How could she possibly have found out? 

“Why would you...why would you ask that?” he ventured. 

“Oh god.” Courtney closed her eyes briefly. “It’s true, isn’t it? You’re married. To a  _ man _ .” 

“Well, I-listen. It’s not a traditional marriage, we have an open-” 

“Then why not tell me?” Courtney demanded, then answered her own question, shaking her head. “Are you even attracted to me? You’re obviously not. I guess I knew, but I just wanted so badly for this to be real, I’m such an idiot-”

“Courtney, listen-”

“No! I don’t get it, is this just some kind of sick game? Why? Why all the lies? Why pretend that you  _ like _ me?” 

Willam shut his eyes. A million excuses were on the tip of his tongue, lies to cover up lies, but none of them would work. None of them would satisfy her. He could see that clear as day. 

“I’m sorry. Okay? Really. I didn’t mean for it to go on this long, I thought I’d get something I could use much quicker-” 

“Something you could use?” Courtney’s eyes suddenly widened as she put the pieces together, and that’s when Willam understood, until that moment she wasn’t even thinking about his job, about the fact that he was a journalist, about how much she’d told him. 

“I would probably have dropped it, but then I got fired, and I needed something, Court, I really-”

“So all of this...all of this was for a  _ story _ ?” she spit out. 

“I...yeah.” Willam swallowed, looking at the horrified expression on her face, the single tear that slid down her cheek. God, what a mess. There was nothing he could say now to win back her trust, so he might as well unburden himself. 

“I really thought there was something, something big that Fame was hiding, especially after Detox got so angry, and-” 

“Oh god.” Courtney covered her mouth. “And I left you in there, alone.  _ I’m _ not even supposed to be in there alone. What did you do? What did you find? Oh god, I’m gonna be fired.” 

She was starting to panic, gripping the edge of the table, breathing growing shallow. Willam shook his head vigorously. 

“Nothing! Okay? I found nothing. Here, look for yourself…” Willam opened his photos and shoved his phone across the table. “It’s just fucking fabric samples and design notes and marketing plans. That’s it. I can delete it right now if you want.” 

“And how do I know this is everything? How do I know you’re not gonna fuck me over?” Courtney asked, green eyes red and watery. 

Willam hung his head for a moment. He didn’t mean for this to happen. She was just a nice kid, maybe a little too trusting, maybe a little over her head, and seeing her brokenhearted face made him feel more wretched than he ever had. 

“You don’t,” he finally said, looking directly into her eyes for the first time that night. “You don’t, you just have my word, which...I guess you already know is worth jack shit.” 

Courtney handed Willam’s phone back to him, shaking his head. 

“It would serve me right if I did get fired,” she said, voice breaking. “Because I was stupid enough to think you were a nice guy.” 

“Courtney-” 

“Goodbye, Willam.” 

She stood up abruptly and walked quickly to the door, leaving Willam with nothing but his own guilt. 

***

Courtney stood in her tiny studio apartment, looking at her face in the old, scratched-up mirror. She couldn’t remember ever being this humiliated. She felt like an absolute idiot. A grade-A fucking moron. And the worse part, the worst part was that she’d known all along that something wasn’t right. 

She’d known it, from the beginning, but she’d gone ahead and trusted him anyway, because he said all the right things and told her everything she wanted to hear. That she was beautiful, she was talented, she was going somewhere. 

All of it had been a lie. 

And now, she was back to square one, but it was even worse, because she’d allowed herself to voice her deepest fears, about what if she really didn’t have what it takes, what if she’d never make it, what if she was doomed to be a mediocre girl in a mediocre job for her whole life? She’d allowed those thoughts, the ones that used to be buried deep, to come to the surface and rear their ugly heads and now she had to face all of it. 

She wasn’t an aspiring actress, or on a path to becoming a musician. She wasn’t anything but an assistant, and even that wasn’t guaranteed, if anyone at Galactica even got a whiff of how majorly she’d fucked up by allowing Willam to get so close. Or if he’d been lying, if he really had gotten something to use and publish--it would immediately be traced back to her. So there was something to keep her awake at night, as if she didn’t have enough. 

She closed her eyes, hot tears burning down her cheeks, feeling more alone than she ever had. She was lucky, actually, that Adore didn’t answer earlier, because once she found out Willam’s real reason for playing her, she realized that she could never ever tell Adore, or their other mutual friends, for fear that it would get back to Miss Fame somehow. 

That was when Courtney made a promise. She would do whatever it took to make this job work. So she wasn’t Violet, she wasn’t some robotically perfect assistant. Well, she wanted to be an actress, so she’d  _ act _ like the perfect assistant. She’d show all of them that she could do this job, that she was valuable, and if she really took it seriously, maybe there was a snowball’s chance in hell that she wouldn’t be fired, deported, and sent back to Brisbane a miserable failure. 


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Courtney learned the truth about Willam and had to face reality--and Pearl learned the truth about Violet and Sutan, but chose to avoid it with Adore. 
> 
> This Chapter: Adore revels in Pearl’s attention, and Violet receives a very nice surprise.

“Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Oh really?”

“Wait, wait,” Violet mumbled, “I got it!”

“Sure you do baby,” Sutan smiled, watching as Violet tried for the third time to open their hotel room door. He had no idea who Violet had been drinking with, but she had been tipsy all night, a happy, bubbly, giggly mess, who had been glued to his side.

“I do, I got-” Violet finally managed to swipe the key card fast enough, an excited yelp coming from her. “Ta da!” She threw the door open, a smile on her face.

“Very impressive, lovely eyes.” Sutan smirked, stepping inside and closing the door behind them. He had taken his own jacket as well as Violet’s off in the elevator, so it was only a matter of throwing it on a chair. He turned, only to see Violet struggling to get out of her dress.

“Do you need help?”

“No-” Violet didn’t look at him, her full concentration on trying to unzip the hidden zipper on her side, “You can’t help me.”

“What? Can’t?” Sutan stepped out of his shoes, raising a brow. “Why not?”

“Because if you help me-” Violet groaned, finally managing to grab the zipper, “We can’t have sex.”

“What?” Sutan snorted, Violet once again taking him completely by surprise as he watched her take her dress off. “Wait, no, I just asked that, but, why?”

“Because-” Violet looked over at him. She dumped down on the bed, kicking her shoes off, a blush rising in her cheeks, “Because I want…”

“Because what?” Sutan smiled, suddenly beyond intrigued at Violet’s sudden shyness. He took a step forward.

“Because-” Violet swallowed, her eyes locked on his lips. “You’re mean.”

Sutan laughed, and Violet giggled too. She reached for her hair, pulling at the updo, her fingers grabbing at bobby pins that Sutan hadn’t even realized was in there.

“You don’t mean that,” Sutan walked over, dropping down on his knees. Violet instantly spread her legs, and he moved between them. “Do you?”

“I do,” Violet nodded, but she still took his hand, putting it on the buckle of her garterbelt, her inner thigh silky soft under his touch. 

In past relationships, Sutan had found it annoying when girlfriends had played helpless, when they had pretended to be unable to do things, but with Violet, it felt flirty and fun.

“You’re being very, very mean Mr. Amrull.”

“Hmm? Does that mean,” Sutan paused, his finger under the buckle, “that I should stop?” 

Sutan moved his thumb, caressing Violet’s skin, a breathless moan leaving her, her eyes closing for a minute.

“Violet?”

“Mmh,” Violet opened her eyes, smiling slightly. “Don’t stop.”

Sutan laughed, and Violet leaned forward, giving him a kiss. He could taste the faintest trace of vodka on her lips, but he wasn’t concerned about whenever or not she was too drunk with the amount of shit she had been given him, Violet more than able to string a sentence together. 

He held her tight, Violet so sweet, her hands in his hair.

“Sutan?” Violet pulled away, looking up at him.

“Mmmh?”

“I… I want,” Violet was playing with the hair on the back of his neck, her eyes focusing on his lips. “I want you to eat me out.”

“What?” Sutan couldn’t believe what he had just heard. 

“I want you to eat me out.”

The request had taken him by surprise, Violet very clear in how much she didn’t enjoy oral the first time they had had sex, but as he looked at her, as he searched her face for any indication that she wasn’t serious, he saw pure determination and vulnerability look right back at him. 

“Please.”

“Of course.” Sutan couldn’t do anything but place a sweet and gentle kiss on Violet’s knee, his brave and strange girl making such a simple request. “Say the word and I’ll stop.”

“I won’t.”

“Know that you can anyway.”

“Alright…” Violet nodded, letting Sutan guide her down into the soft pillows of the bed, pulling her panties off. Violet was blushing heavily, her breath already coming out in short gasps as if she couldn’t actually believe what was happening. 

Sutan pushed her knees apart with gentle hands as he settled between them, pressing a sweet kiss at the mouth of Violet’s cunt, a smile dancing on his lips as he felt how silky smooth she was.

After covering her with light kisses, Sutan started to lick her slit from bottom to top, again and again, the movement making Violet’s chest tighten with anticipation. It felt good, it really did, but it was only a tease, Sutans tongue feeling a little weird, very pleasant, but it wasn’t real pleasure, not like when he was buried deep inside her, fucking her so hard so could barely breath. 

Violet closed her eyes, collecting all her courage as she spread her legs a little further apart, her hand finding Sutan’s hair, desperately hoping he would take the hint, and oh, oh he did.

Violet could feel the warm huffs of air against her skin as Sutan laughed, but instead of being embarrassed, she couldn’t do anything but moan as he went for her clit, his tongue swirling over the hood, and then under it, licking at her most sensitive place.

Violet curled in on herself, the intense burst of sensation so unlike anything she felt alone, everything sharply focused on one small point on her body, making her feel like she was on fire, like she didn’t know whether to pull away or start begging for more.

Thankfully, it was as if Sutan could read her mind, knowing exactly how to work her body when Violet could barely string words together. 

Sutan eased off her, paying attention to the rest of her, toying with her, his tongue returning to her clit frequently, keeping her on her toes. Violet gasped as Sutan pressed two fingers into her, giving her something to grind down into, giving her something to clench onto and to ground her. 

Violet could feel the faint vibrations of Sutan’s moans, and it made warmth curl in her belly.

How could she have denied him for so long when he so obviously enjoyed this? 

She tightened her hand in his hair, earning another pleased sound as she gasped herself, the knowledge that Sutan found this hot, found  _ her  _ hot, making it all that much better.

Soon, Violet lost herself to just feeling, her eyes closed as her pleasure built, her entire body growing hotter and hotter, her desperate sounds making Sutan go at her even harder, his fingers fucking into her as he flicked his tongue over her clit again and again.

Violet was gasping for air. She knew she was going to come, but she couldn’t form the words, couldn’t tell Sutan what was happening. 

It was as if he was trying to pull her orgasm from her very core, as if he was trying to destroy her with pleasure. 

Her entire body was singing with the overwhelming sensations, but it was a broken little moan from Sutan, the knowledge that he was the one doing this to her, that he enjoyed it as much as she did, that made her come so hard she was scared she’d pass out.

***

Adore really was sweet. The perfect distraction for Pearl’s wretched mood. Once they ditched the club and went back to the hotel, Pearl was also reminded what a fantastic lay she was, generous and responsive and deliciously naughty. Normally, Pearl might have found her big Baby Jesus eyes blinking expectantly up at her too needy. But tonight, it was an absolute relief to be with someone who laid bare their emotions, who didn’t have to analyze or work hard to understand. 

Because Adore was absolutely crazy about her, and tonight, Pearl’s ego needed that desperately. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Adore kept saying, body arching, her guitar-callused fingers running over Pearl’s skin like it was Italian silk. 

It was addicting--the feeling of being the center of someone’s universe, capturing their full and undivided attention. At one point, Adore rolled over on top of Pearl, gazing down at her as she rubbed their pussies together, clearly so turned on by Pearl’s body that she was coming apart simply from that, and Pearl couldn’t help reaching up to play with her hardened nipples, spurring her on, hips thrusting faster and faster. 

Pearl kept a mental count of their orgasms, for no reason other than to appease her own injured self confidence. So far it was 4 for Adore, 2 for her, and the night wasn’t over. 

_ Try that with a fucking  _ man _ , Violet _ , she couldn’t help thinking bitterly, as she flipped Adore over again, smiling at the delighted squeal that left her lips. 

“Got any more in you, pumpkin?” 

“Maybe…” Adore bit her lip, lashes fluttering in that particularly charming way of hers. “Do you?” 

“For you? Always,” Pearl replied with a smug smile. She moved down quickly, seeking out the softest part of Adore’s belly and digging her teeth in. 

“Oh  _ god _ ,” Adore moaned, arching up into her. 

“What a good girl you are,” Pearl cooed, lips traveling lower and lower until she was squirming in her hands. 

“Fuck…”

***

Waking up with Pearl was just as good as last time, if not better, the girl’s body curled around hers, head on her shoulder. She couldn’t help herself from carding her fingers softly through Pearl’s beachy blonde waves, watching as her eyes blinked open slowly. 

It seemed to take her a moment to register who she was, where she was, and who she was with. By the time her blue eyes focused on Adore’s, she was practically swooning at how cute the whole thing was. 

“What?” Pearl croaked, morning making her sexy voice even more raspy than usual. 

“You’re just really cute, that’s all,” Adore said. 

Pearl looked almost bashful as she chuckled and said, “You’re the one who’s cute.” 

Adore’s smile grew even more before saying, “Do you need anything? Room service? Coffee?” 

“I need a cigarette.” Pearl reached for the pack on her nightstand. 

“Are you allowed to smoke in here?” Adore asked as she lit up. 

“Are you gonna report me?” 

“Not if you share…” Adore simpered, and Pearl chuckled again, handing her the lit cigarette. 

Adore opened her arm, and after a moment of hesitation, Pearl settled back down against her shoulder, let her go back to playing gently with her hair as she took a long, satisfying drag. 

“You know, I’m not used to waking up with someone else,” Pearl admitted. 

“Oh yeah? And now you’ve woken up with me twice.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Are you uncomfortable?” 

“Nah...it’s actually kinda nice.” 

Adore took a deep breath, handing the cigarette back to her. 

“Well...maybe...you want to do it some more?” 

Pearl shifted against her, turning slightly to peer up at her. Adore knew that she could very well be screwing things up by moving so fast, but she also knew that being in limbo the last few weeks had been excruciating. 

“I just, I really like you. And I was thinking, we’re so good together, why not...make it official?” 

Adore held her breath, waiting for the inevitable “I like you, but” or “maybe someday, but” or “listen…” She was shocked when Pearl nodded slowly, exhaling a cloud of smoke, and casually saying, “Yeah, sure…” 

“Really?!” Adore exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise. “Omigod!” 

Pearl gave her another sleepy grin, almost a smirk, and Adore quickly recovered, taking the cigarette back. 

“Or...whatevs,” she said, the quivering corners of her lips betraying her air of cool detachment. “It’s cool. We’re cool…” 

Pearl laughed, snaking a hand under the covers to tickle her, making her shriek happily. 

***

Bianca sat at her dressing table, carefully applying her makeup, when the door to her suite unlocked and Adore’s voice called out. 

_ “Biancaaaaaa! Are you here?” _

“Yeah, I’m in here, shhh…” she said as Adore poked her head in. She gestured to the sleeping form of the woman under her covers (her name seemed to have slipped Bianca’s mind), and added, “Come in. Not like you’re intruding or anything.” 

“Thanks!” Adore chirped, bounding in and flinging herself onto the bed. The woman sat up, startled. “Good morning! I’m Adore. Bianca’s sister.” 

“Hi…” she rubbed her eyes, confused, voice still groggy as she said, “I’m Janey.” 

Janey! That’s what it was. Bless Adore and her lack of boundaries. 

“Sorry Janey, you can relax. I ordered breakfast, it should be here soon.” 

“Uh...thank you.” She smiled uncomfortably, still clearly weirded out by the situation. 

“B! Don’t you want to know why I’m in a good mood?” Adore whined. 

“It’s my most fervent wish.” 

“Well…” Adore’s blue eyes sparkled with glee, finally bursting out with, “I have a girlfriend!”

“The one you’ve been stalking, or someone else?” Bianca calmly returned to her makeup, more than used to Adore’s love-struck naiveté. 

“I wasn’t stalking her, I was just...waiting for the timing to be right. You get it, right?” Adore nudged Janey’s arm, looking for backup. 

“Are you gonna tell me her damn name, now?” 

“Yes.” Adore settled back against her pillows, a smug grin spreading across her face. She paused dramatically and then said, “It’s Pearl Liaison.” 

Bianca barely stifled her groan, turning back towards her sister, pointing the mascara wand at her accusingly. “Are you fucking serious, Adore?” 

“Of course I’m serious. She’s amazing; I can’t believe she agreed on being exclusive so easily.” 

Bianca closed her eyes. There were so many things wrong with this situation, but of course she had neither the time nor the inclination to explain them to Adore. Instead, she settled for, “Adore. Listen to me. You need to  _ run _ from this girl. She’s fucking trouble. She’s going to destroy you.”

Adore finally snapped out of her love-struck daze, glaring over at Bianca. “Fuck you, B! You don’t even know her!”

Bianca chuckled wryly. “Believe me, I do. I do know her, honey. And there’s about a million and five things about you being with her that are fucked up, not to mention that she will absolutely, definitely break your heart.”

“Why are you being so unsupportive?! I’m happy, and she cares about me, so why-”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I’m trying to protect you–”

“I don’t need your protection! I’m a fucking grown-up.”

“You’re right, Adore. You’re a grown-up.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ll be sure to remember this conversation when she cheats on you, or blows you off, or–”

Adore leapt up from the bed, eyes blazing with fury. “You are the  _ worst _ ! Do us both a favor and stay out of my love life!” She stormed out of Bianca’s room, slamming the door behind her in a self-righteous rage.

Bianca sighed, blowing softly on her lashes as she waited for the glue to get tacky. She caught Janey’s eye and asked, “So...you in the mood for quiche?” 

***

Violet had been spending her afternoon at the desk in their hotel room, making sure everything was running as smoothly as she could from her remote office of Trixie’s laptop and a hotel printer.

Violet had found it difficult to get Courtney to work at the speed she needed when they had been in the same space, but now, with an ocean and a 6 hour time difference, it was practically impossible, Courtney’s replies to her messages getting more and more frazzled each time she reached out.

“Oh, by the way. I have something for you.“

Violet turned in her chair, looking over at Sutan who had just come back from whatever party he had attended, the man laughing when he had seen Violet sitting among the papers and being what he had called ‘a good little assistant’.

“You do?” Violet bit her lip, tapping her nails against the desk.

“I do.” Sutan nodded, reaching into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. Sutan had never given her a present before, and she had no idea what to expect. 

“Here.” He pulled out a piece of thick paper, and Violet looked at him in confusion as he handed it to her.

“What’s-” Violet turned the paper over, but it was neatly folded into a square, the white backing not giving anything away, Sutan shrugging his jacket off. “What’s this?” 

“I noticed that you weren’t at the Dior show.” 

Sutan sat in the armchair, not even looking at her as he reached down to undo his shoes. Violet felt weirdly touched at the fact that Sutan had noticed she had been absent, Fame demanding that she pick up a coffee for her while the show was happening.

“I know it’s not haute couture week,” Violet wondered for a brief moment if it would be weird to tell Sutan that she found it incredible sexy whenever he pronounced haute correctly, “but I still figured,” Sutan looked up at her, a smile on his lips as he toed off his shoe, “that you’d maybe like to save the show note.”

“Oh…” Violet unfolded the paper, the words of Raf Simons printed on the creamy white paper as he described this season's collection. “I, umh-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Sutan focused on his cufflinks, undoing the metal. 

“Now,” He hooked a thumb in his tie, taking it off. “Could I interest you in some late night room service? Because I’m craving something real greasy and American.”

“No.”

Sutan snorted, and Violet felt her stomach clench, but as always, Sutan didn’t get mad when she was probably being rude. 

“More for me then.” Sutan smiled, giving her a quick kiss before he went for the room's phone, clearly already done with their conversation. 

Violet looked down at the show note, cursing herself for once again failing to speak up, of not managing to find the right words at the right time, because even though it was technically just a piece of paper, she couldn’t get over the fact that Sutan had carried it around on all day on the off chance that she could maybe potentially like it.

“Thank you…” Violet whispered as she neatly folded it, tucking it into the back of her planner for safe keeping. 

***

Bianca took a large sip of her pinot, looking around at the dreadfully dull cocktail party and trying not to let her irritation get the better of her. 

She’d only been in Paris for four days, and she was already very much over it. Some years, she was excited to participate in these European fashion weeks, but this year, everything seemed to annoy her; the small talk, the endless cheek kissing, the rude waiters who pretended not to understand English…not to mention, no matter how nice her hotel was, nothing was as good as her memory foam mattress back home. And so far the fashion had been quite disappointing. Definitely not worth a 7 hour flight. Even the hook-ups were average at best. 

Bianca rubbed her temple. She was tired and cranky and irritable and wished Adore was there so that she could taunt her and spread the misery around, but her sister was off galivanting with Pearl fucking Liaison of all people.

And then suddenly, a light appeared at the end of the tunnel, in the form of Miss Fame, standing in the corner dressed in a glorious cream and ivory ensemble from head to toe. Bianca grinned deviously, striding up to her friend.

A foot away from Fame, Bianca “stumbled” and pretended to spill red wine down the back of Fame’s jacket.

“Oh no!” she cried. “Your outfit, it’s ruined! I’m so sorry!”

Fame gasped and looked up at Bianca with eyes blazing, clenching her teeth.

Bianca had wanted to keep the ruse going a little longer, but she couldn’t keep a straight face and burst out laughing, patting Fame on the shoulder.

“Sorry Blondie, I’m totally fucking with you. Nothing spilled.” Bianca wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Such a comedian. Was that fun for you?” Fame’s voice was scolding, but her eyes glittered with mischief. She would never admit it out loud, but she loved the way Bianca teased her.

They leaned in to greet each other properly and Bianca gave Fame the exaggerated European-style air kisses.

“It really was. A much-needed pick me up.” 

“What’s wrong?” Fame asked, her gray eyes turning soft. 

“I’m in hell. I miss my bed and my dogs and this season looks boring as fuck. Present company excluded, of course.”

“Of course.”

“And the worst part…” 

“Worse than a boring season?” Fame asked, feigning shock. 

“Yes.” Bianca leaned in closer to confide in her. “Your mistress? Is fucking my sister.” 

“And?” Fame asked benignly, her face placid. 

“You don’t care?” Bianca asked, a bit incredulous. 

“It’s none of my business who she fucks, Bianca. She’s not a pet.” 

“Wow, you’re so evolved.” Bianca tossed back her wine with an exaggerated eye roll. “Thanks for the help.”

“Well, what would you like me to do?” 

“You could start by threatening to fire her if she hurts Adore.” 

“That sounds a bit illegal, dear.” 

“Ughhh…” 

“Don’t worry so much. Adore’s an adult, she’ll be fine. Pearl’s very good in bed.” 

“Great.” Bianca rolled her eyes, swiping a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. 

Fame laughed, pressing a kiss to Bianca’s cheek before noticing Raja signalling her from across the room. “I better go see what Raj wants. Cheer up, B, and thanks for the heart attack.”

Bianca accepted Miss Fame’s tight hug. “Whatever. Thanks for being useless as always. Love you.”

Miss Fame giggled, releasing Bianca and waving flirtatiously as she walked away.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Adore’s dreams came true, and Bianca was not pleased. 
> 
> This Chapter: Katya struggles, Courtney turns a page, Violet works her ass off, and Trixie taps his best man.

“What do you have to say in your defense?”

An imposing man stood in front of Katya, she couldn’t recognize his face or his voice as he was wearing a mask. She couldn’t recognize the room she was in, she couldn’t move as she was tied into a chair, the chains digging into her skin as she tried to get away.

Katya looked around, the faces of all the people she loved most in the world looking at her. Pearl and Fame, Violet and Max, all of the children from her class, even her grandmother was there, all of them watching her, judging her.

“I… I…”

“Are you trying to deny that you have been drinking?”

“I haven’t, I haven’t, I swear!” Katya searched for Trixie with her eyes, desperately trying to find him, to locate her rock, the man who loved her, no matter what, but instead of Trixie, all of Katya’s loved ones’ faces merged into mirrors, forcing her to see herself for who she really was.

Katya realized why her children had been looking at her in disgust, her clothes were covered in what smelled like alcohol and pee, her tights were torn, her makeup smeared all across her face, making her look like a parody of the joker, her hair was disgusting and chunks of vomit were collected in it.

“Please! Please, this isn’t, this isn’t me anymore! I promise!”

“Katya Zamolodchikova.” The man stepped towards her.

“You have been found guilty on the charges of being a disgusting, worthless human being, and for that you will be punished.”

The man reached up and removed his mask, revealing… Trixie, making Katya burst into tears.

“Trix, please, please don’t do this to me! You love me! This isn’t who I am, not anymore!”

Katya was desperately fighting against her bonds now, trying to get free, if only she could get to Trixie she could explain, she could explain everything and he would hold her and kiss her again and they would be okay, but instead, Trixie only leaned forward, his face so close to hers that she could count the freckles on his nose.

“Please Trix.” Katya was sobbing now. “Please, I’m your wife.”

“Oh Katya, poor dumb little Katya, like anyone could ever love someone like you. Now drink up, it’s vodka, your favorite. Do svidaniya, bitch.”

Katya woke with a scream, her entire body covered in sweat, tears and snot streaming down her face.

***

Katya was like a doll in Trixie’s hands as he quickly undressed her, her spoiled pyjama bottoms and her shirt getting thrown into a corner of their hotel bathroom before Trixie helped Katya into the shower, the two of them standing under the spray together, silent tears still falling from Katya’s eyes, even if she had finally stopped shaking when she felt the hot water on her body, washing away the scent of urine and sweat.

Trixie had never seen Katya so scared before; she had nightmares, in fact she often had nightmares, but he couldn’t remember the last time she had wet the bed.

Katya finally, finally, finally stopped crying altogether while Trixie was washing her, the hot water and the lemony body scrub removing the last traces of her dream from her body. 

They could hear the staff of the hotel out in their main room changing their sheets as Trixie had called them right before he got Katya into the bathroom.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

Trixie looked down at Katya. She looked so small with her wet hair and her red eyes, her shoulders slumped as she was fighting against her exhausted body to stay awake.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything, stuff like this happens. Remember when I shat myself because I ate that donut that had been sitting on my office desk for the weekend and you used your lunch break to bring me a new pair of pants?” Trixie smiled as Katya snorted, but that story usually made her double over in laughter.

“Katya,” Trixie gently pushed a strand of hair away from her face, “Are you okay?”

“No…” Katya’s voice was so small Trixie barely heard it over the sound of the water, but as soon as Katya had said the word, she started crying again.

“No?” Trixie felt panic creep into his body, but he pushed it down, he had to be there for Katya, and in that moment he made a decision.

“I’m taking the day off.”

“What?!” Katya looked up at Trixie. “No, no, you can’t. Trix, this is Pari-”

“I’m taking the day off. Fame will understand.”

“Fame is your boss, you have shows-”

“Fame loves you. We’re spending the day together. End of discussion.”

Katya smiled through her tears as she wrapped her arms around Trixie, the two of them standing together until the water turned cold.

***

Violet bit down a noise as Sutan moved, grabbing the ringing phone from the nightstand.

“Amrull speaking.”

Violet could hear how tired Sutan was, and she smiled as she cuddled even closer, draping herself over his chest. She was pleasantly sore, her body warm and relaxed. 

“It’s 5:30, what do you think? Of course I’m fucking sleeping-”

Violet snorted, and Sutan looked down at her, a smile on his lips as he ran a hand through her hair. 

“Yes, no, yes she’s here.”

Violet sat up on her elbows, the duvet falling off of her, and Sutan raised a brow, a smirk on his lips as he was very clearly looking at her breasts. Why was anybody asking for her on Sutan’s phone? Violet looked over at the table where she had been sitting last night, realizing with dread that she had forgotten her phone, the vibrations of it clearly not enough to wake her up.

“Yes that’s what normally happens when you share-” Sutan rolled his eyes. “I refuse to answer that. Yes, yes you can talk to her.”

Sutan held the phone out, and Violet took it. She quickly mouthed ‘who is it’ but Sutan just gestured for her to put it to her ear.

“Hello?”

_ “Violet? Is that you?” _

“Oh. Umh. Good morning Miss, is everything okay-”

_ “Spare me the pleasantries. Trixie has fucked us over.” _

“... What?” Violet couldn’t believe what she had just heard. “I, what?”

_ “Apparently, when I tell my employee that he can have whatever he wants as an engagement present, that does not mean material goods or the watch I know he’s been looking at. Oh no, no no, it means a trip to some godforsaken tourist trap theme park during Fashion Week.” _

“And what should I-”

_ “I need you to make new itineraries for everyone who’s covering his shows, making sure that no obligations are left undone.” _

“I’m not sure I can-” Violet could feel her throat close up. She had no idea what Trixie’s schedule was, had no idea what Trixie even normally did during Fashion Week. He was the only one who didn’t have an assistant, so she couldn’t even call anybody.

_ “Violet, how long have you been working as my assistant?” _

“A- about a year and a half?” Violet usually had a pretty good idea of where Fame was going most of the time, being her first and only assistant meaning that she had to be two steps ahead, but right now, this could go in every direction.

_ “Then you have plenty of experience.” _

“I-”

_ “Make this work. I refuse to end this week with a dissapointment. That’s all.” _

Fame had hung up before Violet could probably process what the other woman had just said. Violet could feel her heart beating faster and faster, as panic tried to creep its way into her body, her thoughts swirling around in her head as she tried to make sense of everything.

“I-”

She needed to get out of the bed, needed to move, needed to go for a run, to do something, anything, but then, she felt an arm sneak around her waist.

“So,” Violet suddenly realised that Sutan was still there, that she was still in bed. “I know you’re probably stressed-” Sutan took his phone, Violet not even realising that she had still held it pressed to her ear. “But there will be no crises before 7 am.”

“Oh?” 

Sutan’s statement was so ridiculous that Violet was momentarily pulled out of her panic, a smug smirk on his face.

“Oh yes.” Sutan nodded, looking completely serious. “It’s simply not allowed.”

“Well, if it’s not allowed…” 

“It’s not.” Sutan pulled her down, almost forcing her to cuddle, but as Violet laid her head down on Sutan’s chest, the steady beating of his heart in her ear, she felt herself relax more and more.

“Sutan?”

“Yes lovely eyes?” Sutan’s eyes were already closed, and Violet knew he probably had every intention of going back to sleep, but he was also gently petting her shoulder, his thumb slowly running over her skin. 

“Thank you.”

***

The more Courtney thought about Willam, the less sad she got. She wasn’t sad at all, in fact. She was angry--she was  _ furious _ . How fucking  _ dare _ he? 

She’d been in a bit of a daze on Thursday, still in disbelief over the whole thing, but Friday was another story entirely. She ripped through her to do list like a beast, fueled by rage, and even began a few organizational projects of her own. The best motherfucking assistant ever, she told herself as she printed out new, color-coded labels for the filing cabinet. 

“Heyyy…” a soft voice drawled from the doorway, and Courtney looked up to see Alaska in a stunning blue plaid skirt suit. 

“Hi!” Courtney said cheerfully, giving her a little wave from the floor, where she was affixing the labels to the new folders. 

“I just wanted to check on you. I meant to come by yesterday, but things just got-” 

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m fine,” Courtney insisted. 

“Are you sure? Because that was-” 

“He’s a dickhead, I’m lucky I found out when I did. Thanks for looking out for me,” Courtney said emphatically. 

“Okay, well, then...you’re welcome.” Alaska paused before before asking, “And you’re sure you’re alright?”

“Totally alright,” Courtney said. “I didn’t really like him all that much to begin with, so...good riddance, right?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess so,” Alaska said. “Well listen, I’m popping downstairs to grab a coffee, can I get you anything?” 

“No thanks!” Courtney looked back down, her full concentration on centering the label perfectly before she pressed it down. 

“Okay. See you around, Court!” 

***

It wasn’t that Sutan had a problem with it per say, but he wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about the fact that it seemed like he’d have to start getting used to waking up a lot earlier than he’d like if he wanted to have Violet in his life.

He was sitting on the couch in his and Violet’s hotel room, drinking his morning coffee, watching as Violet was on the phone, her planner open as she was scheduling away.

He hadn’t really listened to Fame’s call, had only made out a word here and there, but he had felt Violet’s anxiety, Fame a very unpleasant person to be around when she was in the mood to ruin someone's day. 

He had expected Violet to be a wreck when he had woken up again, had mentally allocated his morning to help her deal with whatever Fame had decided to throw her way, but as he had gotten out of bed, Violet was already fully dressed and seemed like she was handling everything on her own.

Strangely enough, it seemed like she was fine, and if he was being honest, it was beyond attractive.

***

“Mmh-” Katya opened her mouth, biting off the entire ear of the Mickey Mouse marshmallow she had just purchased. “Oh my god!” 

Katya’s eyes widened as she was hit with an instant wave of strawberry sweetness, the marshmallow absolutely perfect in her mouth. 

Her feet were achingly sore, but it didn’t matter because she was at the happiest place on earth.

“Trix!” Katya turned, practically thrusting it towards him, “You have to try this!”

“Aaah,” Trixie smirked, opening his mouth, a teasing glint in his eyes. 

Katya giggled, feeding the entire treat to him, even though she had only meant to give him a single bite.

“Mmh!” Trixie’s eyes widened as well, and Katya felt her heart flutter, few things cuter than when Trixie enjoyed his food. 

They were wearing matching Mickey ears, Katya’s backpack filled with little treats and souvenirs for her students. Katya sometimes forgot that her boyfriend, no, fiancé, was a Department Head at a widely renowned fashion house because he usually had such simple tastes, but today he had swung his card left and right, buying everything Katya had put her eye on.

Trixie finished the treat, and Katya leaned forward, pressing a kiss against Trixie’s sugar sweet lips. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Trixie grinned, and Katya couldn’t believe how lucky she was, kissing the man she loved on a Disney bench.

“Now, Ms. Zamolchikova-“

“Yes?” Katya smiled. 

“Are you ready for the haunted mansion?” he asked, making his voice as spooky as possible. 

“Please.” Katya snorted. “I’m Russian. Nothing can scare me.”

***

“Princess?” Raja waited for a beat, her voice ringing through their hotel suite, her fingers tapping on the nightstand, but she didn’t receive a reply. “Raven?”

“Mmh?”

Raja almost rolled her eyes at the lazy, non committed sound. They were flying home that afternoon, and Raja was packing everything up, Raven’s mountain of suitcases neatly stacked in the corner. 

“Have you seen my earrings?” Raja knew she had left the diamonds on the nightstand, the jewels the last thing she needed to tuck away. 

“Your earrings?”

“Yes, my earrings.”

“No.” Raven drawled. “Haven’t seen them.”

“Raven-” Raja rarely, if ever, got annoyed with Raven, but right now, it seemed like her fiancée insisted on pushing every single button she had. 

Raja knew she had promised to spend their last day in Paris with her, that they had planned a day of good food, drinks and luxury shopping, but since Fame had allowed Trixie to take the day off, Raja had been forced to work, Raven therefor going by herself to the several boutiques Paris had to offer.

“Don’t lie to me.” Raja stepped out of the bedroom, “You know exactly where-”

Raja stopped dead in her tracks, the sight of her fiance taking her by complete surprise. 

Raven was lying on the white couch, one hand under her chin, her legs in the air, her black hair spilling over her shoulders and back as she was lazily flipping through this month's issue of British Vogue, looking for photos of herself.

She was completely naked, her perfect ass on full display, her tits pressed against the velvet of the couch.

“Yes?”

“Are those,” Raja coughed, her mouth dry. “Are those my earrings?”

“These?” Raven looked up, a pair of diamonds dangling from her ears. “Perhaps.” She smiled, closing the magazine. “Why don’t you come check?”

***

Fame took a deep breath as she stepped out of the airport. She was exhausted, the flight home from Paris long and harrowing with upsettingly high turbulence, though everyone else had argued there hadn’t been any.

Violet was still in Paris, her assistant unable to get on Fame’s flight because her ticket got booked last minute, so she had called for her car herself, her driver already on his way thanks to Patrick.

“Uh!” Fame looked to her right, Pearl raising her hand, her black Gucci luggage at her feet. “Taxi!”

She had been sitting with Pearl on the flight, her hand holding the blonde’s the entire time, but now that her feet were firmly back on the ground in her own continent, Fame realized that she had completely neglected to address the rumor she had heard.

“Pearl,” Fame grabbed the collar of Pearl’s jacket, the fact that they were in public the only reason she hadn’t smacked Pearl’s velour-covered ass, the knowledge that the high-waisted tracksuit pants were Prada not enough to make them something Fame approved of. 

“You’re coming with me.” Fame pointed to her car. “I need to go over the new website design.”

“Hmm?” Pearl smirked, and if Fame had been anyone else, she would have felt embarrassed about how obvious her lie was. “Message received, Miss.” 

Pearl followed behind Fame, her driver putting their luggage in the trunk as they waved goodbye to Raja and Raven, Fame texting Patrick that she was on her way home as the driver rolled the partition up, the engine starting when she felt a hand on her thigh. 

“So…website design, huh?” Pearl asked, and Fame turned her head to see a teasing glint in her eyes. “You know, Miss, we did just spend 7 hours together.”

“Because the mile high club is so my brand.” Fame knew she sounded sour, but she was still a little surprised at how abruptly Pearl stopped, her hand freezing on her thigh.

“Wait,” Pearl’s brow furrowed. “Do you actually want to discuss work?”

“Of course not.” Fame rolled her eyes, looking directly at Pearl. “I know that you’re toying with Adore Delano.” 

Fame had expected it to be a reveal, for Pearl to look at least somewhat embarrassed, but instead, Pearl simply smiled.

“Oh, that.” Pearl laughed, “Since when do you care who I toy with? Are you jealous?” 

Pearl grinned, her perfectly white teeth on display.

“I know who you are,” Fame said, touching her chest, “but Adore is someone  _ I _ care about,”

“Please.” Pearl gave a good-natured eye roll and sat back against the seat, her hands slipping away from Fame’s thigh, the blonde clearly preparing for a lecture. 

“Adore is sensitive and trusting, and doesn’t have the good sense to reject your charms like Violet.”

Fame knew Pearl thought she had been subtle, but Fame had noticed how much she had flirted with her first assistant, and had even seen how Violet had blushed, though thankfully though, nothing had come of the ridiculous situation.

“Mmmh.” Pearl looked weirdly injured, her lips pressed together, and Fame felt her heart soften, Pearl so obviously caring about Adore in her own way.

“I just,” Fame reached out, touching Pearl’s arm. “I don’t want you hurting her, Pearl. Adore is, Adore’s...” Fame knew that it was Adore’s story to tell, that she didn’t have the right to share all the things she knew about her from Bianca, but it was so hard to stay silent. “She’s-”

“Listen.” Pearl put her hand on top of Fame’s. “Don’t worry about Adore, she’s a big girl, and so am I.”

“Pearl, be serious please.”

“We’re, you know, we’re having a good time. She’s a good time. It’s not that serious.” 

“Does she know that?” Fame rubbed her thumb, gently petting Pearl. She cared so deeply for the blonde - Pearl, one of the few people she felt truly comfortable around, but that didn’t mean she was blind to her flaws.

“She follows me on Twitter. She knows who I am,” Pearl laughed, resting a hand lightly on Fame’s thigh. “Tell Bianca to stop worrying.”

Fame’s eyes narrowed. The fact that Pearl had just assumed this message came from Bianca was annoying, even if it was mostly right. “Watch your mouth.” 

“Sorry...Miss.” Pearl fluttered her lashes innocently. 

“Just be nice to her, okay?” Fame sighed, shifting her gaze out the window. She supposed she should just let this fling, or whatever it was, run its course. 

“I’m always nice.” Pearl smirked, leaning in for a kiss.

***

Pearl opened the door, finally home, flinging her bags to the ground. 

“Hey Pearlie! Welcome home!” 

Pearl grinned, making her way to the kitchen where Trixie was standing at the stove, stirring what appeared to be a big pot of tomato sauce, meatballs simmering away in a pan beside it. 

Pearl loved Europe, but she hated traveling back, everyone leaving on different flights, though she wasn’t about to complain at the fact that Trixie had returned home first.

“Where’s Katya-Kat?” 

Pearl had been planning on treating the happy couple to dinner in Paris the night before, but Trixie and Katya had canceled to live their Adult Disney fantasy, and then left the hotel at the crack of dawn to get on the earlier flight home. 

“She’s in the bedroom, scrapbooking.” 

“Oh no, is it that bad?” Pearl asked, suddenly concerned. Katya loved arts and crafts, but scrapbooking was a sign that she was deeply troubled. Pearl felt guilty--fashion week was such a whirlwind, she hadn’t really been checking in with her friends much. 

“It’s been a rough week,” Trixie admitted. 

“Shit. Should I leave her alone then?”

“You can go in. I think she’ll be happy to see you.” 

With a slightly relieved sigh, Pearl walked over to her bedroom, knocking softly on the door. 

“Come in,” Katya said, her face breaking into a huge smile when Pearl pushed open the door. “Pearlie!” 

“Hey girl!” Pearl surveyed the bed, where Katya was sitting cross-legged surrounded by stickers and photos and an array of crafting supplies. 

“Come here and hug me!” Katya demanded, and Pearl laughed. 

“I don’t want to mess up your whole situation…” 

“I said come!” 

Pearl climbed onto the bed and wrapped her friend up into a huge hug, settling in to watch as Katya explained her scrapbooking process. After a few minutes, Trixie appeared in the doorway, a soft smile playing on his lips as he observed the girls for a few moments before clearing his throat. 

“Hey...mind if I steal Ms. Liaison? I could use some help in the kitchen.” 

“I can help!” Katya chirped. 

“Uh uh, no way. You relax, I told you! You’re not lifting a finger tonight,” he chided. He put his hands on his hips, attempting to look serious, cutting Katya’s next statement off with, “And that’s final!” 

Katya giggled, leaning back against the pillows, rolling her eyes slightly. “Yes, sir.” 

Pearl pressed a soft kiss to Katya’s cheek and slid off the bed to follow Trixie into the kitchen. 

“I hope this kitchen help is for me to stand around watching and maybe drink, because that’s all I’m qualified for.” 

“Actually, I have something kind of important to ask you.” Trixie put an arm around Pearl’s shoulders and squeezed, guiding her towards the kitchen table. 

“Oh yeah?” Pearl swiped a piece of carrot from the cutting board and popped it into her mouth. “What’s up?” 

“Well… You know we’re engaged now. And we haven’t set a date or anything, but I was thinking about the wedding, and all that and...uh...will you be my best man?” Trixie’s big brown eyes looked as hopeful and bright as a little boy. Pearl would normally laugh at such an embarrassing display of sincerity, but somehow Trixie made it cute. 

“Your best man? You know I’m a woman, right?” Pearl teased, pretending to think it over, as if there was any answer to this besides ‘yeah dude of course!’

“I know, but you’re my best bro. And come on...can you imagine like...Max, planning a bachelor party?” 

“Oh god, what a disaster.” 

“Exactly!” Trixie laughed. 

“Well...okay then. Anything for you...bro.” Pearl gave him a light punch on the shoulder. 

Trixie grinned, sweeping her up into a hug. 

“You’re such a fucking sap, I can’t even deal with you,” Pearl said, voice muffled by his shoulder, but in spite of her words, she hugged him back just as tightly.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: The Galactica crew headed back to New York.
> 
> This Chapter: Violet receives a pleasant surprise, Jinkx meets her crush, and Fame makes a decision.

Courtney hurried down the block towards the subway stop in the rain, dodging other pedestrians, her phone pressed to her ear. 

“Courtneyyyy, didn’t you miss me?” Adore whined. She was trying to convince Courtney to come to brunch at her new girlfriend’s apartment, which honestly sounded kind of nice--after all, Courtney liked Pearl a lot, and she was thrilled for Adore that she’d succeeded in snagging her dream girl. Unfortunately, brunch just wasn’t in the cards on that particular day. 

“Yes, but I have to work, I’m sorry.” 

“But it’s Sunday, come oooon!”

“You don’t get it, Adore,” Courtney sighed. “Violet’s been gone all week and I need things to be perfect when she walks in.” 

“But you don’t even  _ like _ Violet!” Adore countered. 

“I never said that!” Courtney exclaimed defensively. And it was true. Yes, sometimes she complained about the way Violet talked to her and ordered her around. And yes, she was often frustrated by her own seeming inability to ever truly please her, but when it really came down to it, she did respect her coworker. “It’s not that I dislike her, she’s just a little difficult sometimes. But I want her to see how hard I’ve been working-” 

“I don’t know why you’re working so hard to please her when you could please  _ me _ by coming to brunch,” Adore pouted. 

“I’m sorry, Dore, but knowing Violet, she could very well be coming in today, so I have to get everything together ASAP.”

“Ugh, fine! I hate your job!” Adore exclaimed, finally hanging up. 

As Courtney descended the stairs into the subway station, she did her very best not to think, ‘Me too!’ 

***

“Here you go.”

“Thank you darling.” Fame smiled as she took the coffee cup Patrick handed her. It was early noon, the sun high in the sky.

“You’re welcome.” Patrick grinned, and Fame looped her arm in his, Charles by their side, the dog waiting patiently for his humans.

They were on their way to Carl Schurz Park, the entirety of it fenced in, and they even had a part of the park reserved for bigger dogs, which was a real concern when you owned a Great Dane.

“Come on boy,” Fame pulled the leash, and Charles woofed with excitement, Fame unable to keep in a laugh at his enthusiasm.

***

It was nearing 6 am on Monday morning, and as usual, Violet was the only person in the building besides the doorman.

She had spent Sunday in bed, her mattress on the floor nothing like the Parisian king sized bed, jetlag hitting her like a freight train. Though Violet still felt heavy and slightly nauseous, she had managed to get to the gym before work, the familiar routine wonderfully comforting.

Violet took the elevator to the 25th floor, making her way past reception. Violet had expected the office to be dark, but it seemed like Courtney had left the light on over the weekend, an extremely hypocritical mistake from someone who loved to lecture other people about waste and the environment.

Violet swiped her keycard, the little beep allowing her into Fame's outer office. She put her hand on the glass door, taking one last, final, deep breath, preparing herself for an absolute catastrophe as she opened the door, but instead of scattered papers, forgotten cups of coffee and chaos, Violet saw Courtney sitting at her desk, the office perfectly clean.

Courtney looked up from her computer with a smile and a cheerful, “Good morning!”

“Courtney?" Violet closed the door behind her. Courtney was wearing a light blue sweater, her blonde hair styled in big wavy curls, sparkling silver stars in her ears. 

“How was Paris?” 

"Paris c’est Paris.” Violet looked around, wondering if Courtney had just shoved everything underneath the desks or inside the closet when she had heard her approach. But instead, she spotted the table, where rows of neatly labeled folders were lined up, along with Miss Fame’s phone sheet, schedule for the day, as well as a week overview. 

“I don’t understand…”

Little flags marked all the places where they required Fame’s approval. Looking for the catch, Violet pulled open a drawer in the file cabinet beside Courtney’s desk, and instead of the crammed-full mess of papers she expected, saw newly color-coded file folders in perfectly organized rows. 

“You're here early?"

“Yeah,” Courtney chuckled. “I guess I got used to coming in at the crack of dawn while you were away. It’s so much easier to get things done before everyone gets here.” 

"Yes." Violet walked over to her desk, still genuinely surprised at how tidy everything was. "It is." She put her bag on the table, unbuttoning her jacket. "I had expected-" Violet cut herself short. "It's nice that I don't have to start the day cleaning up." 

Violet turned on her computer, the knowledge that she'd actually get to the emails she had largely ignored while in Paris more than she had hoped for. 

She used the time while her computer was starting up to turn on the kettle, shocked to find the little kitchenette as immaculately clean as the office; every item on the shelf in perfect order, labels facing out. She went back into the bullpen to look through paperwork, sure that she’d find something amiss. 

“I tried to organize everything to make it easier for you,” Courtney said, gesturing to the folders. “There’s all the notes and reference photos from the shows for the meeting later, press requests, event invitations, and Miss Fame’s upcoming schedule. I thought she might want a light week so everything in purple is tentative.” 

"Thank you Courtney, this is very... adequate work." 

The last time Violet and Courtney had talked on the phone, Violet had told Courtney to get her head out of her ass, and somehow, after months, it seemed like it had finally happened.

Courtney was actually doing her job, and doing it right. Violet was pleased, but she couldn’t help be a tiny bit suspicious of the sudden improvement. She supposed, though, that it was best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“I'm glad you decided to use your time wisely while I was away.”

“I tried,” Courtney said earnestly. 

“Keep it up,” Violet said, turning back to her computer. “You should cover this morning's meeting with Jaida.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Violet nodded, noting down on her schedule that maybe, just maybe, Courtney was finally ready to cover meetings on her own. 

***

“You gonna eat your bread?” Jinkx asked, gesturing to Bianca’s plate. 

“Help yourself,” Bianca laughed, pushing the plate towards her friend with a slight shake of the head. They were sitting at one of their favorite cafés, having an early lunch now that Bianca was back from Paris. “You’re like Adore, always trying to eat from my plate.” 

“You love it,” Jinkx giggled, mouth full of crusty sourdough. Bianca would probably deny it to her last breath, but the truth of the matter was that she loved taking care of everyone around her. 

“It’s just crazy that I have so many of you damn kids. Me, the least maternal person on the planet.” 

“You’re very maternal,” Jinkx argued. “Just like...hmmm, in more of a dad way?” 

“Whatever. Finish your broccolini.” 

“See?” Jinkx grinned triumphantly. 

Bianca rolled her eyes. “ _ Anyway _ , you were supposed to tell me about the meeting you had with that producer. What happened?” 

“Oh! Omigod, it was so great. We talked about how I’ve been slowly taking bigger and bigger roles, kind of working up to another lead...”

“Yes?” Bianca leaned forward, clearly intrigued, exactly what Jinkx wanted. 

“And he thinks that it’s time for a revival of-holy shit…” 

Jinkx stopped mid sentence, mouth agape, eyes glazed. 

“What? Into the Woods? My Fair Lady? Gypsy?!” 

“Ivy Winters…” 

“I don’t know that show, is it British?” 

“No,” Jinkx groaned, jutting her chin in the direction of the hostess stand, where Ivy was standing, looking absolutely radiant in a maroon wrap dress--Jinkx had always been told growing up that redheads shouldn’t wear any shade of red, but Ivy was proving that rule completely false. She was just  _ stunning _ . 

“Oh…” Bianca glanced over, head cocking slightly. “Isn’t that Raja’s assistant?” 

“Yeah, I guess. Awkward, huh?” Jinkx shook her head. “But omigod, she’s so cute, and okay we’ve never spoken, exactly, but I can tell she’s just the sweetest, kindest-” 

“Ivy!” Bianca waved to the girl, catching her eye. “Ivy Winters!”

“What are you doing?” Jinkx hissed through gritted teeth.

“You said you’d never spoken.” Bianca smirked, her hand still in the air. “I’m fixing that.” She beckoned Ivy over, flashing a big smile. “Hi! How are you?” 

“I’m...fine, Ms. Del Rio, thank you. Just picking up lunch for Raja.” Ivy looked slightly puzzled as to why she’d been summoned. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Yeah, I realized that I forgot to return Raja’s call this morning. Was it time sensitive?” 

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Ivy smiled, adorable as ever, the little gap between her teeth on full display.

“Great, great. Tell her I’ll call as soon as I’m back in the office,” Bianca said, then smoothly transitioned to, “Ivy, you know Jinkx Monsoon, don’t you?” 

“No, I don’t think we’ve officially met.” Ivy met Jinkx’s eyes, extending a delicate hand towards her. “You’re Alaska’s friend, right?” 

“Yes! Yes, I am. Nice to meet you. Ivy, was it?” Jinkx shook her hand, smiling madly. She knew she probably looked like a loon, but she couldn’t help herself, something about Ivy just made her feel so absolutely wonderful.

“Yeah.” 

“Such a pretty name. It really suits you,” Jinkx said, then realized she was holding the girl’s hand far too long and dropped it, stammering out, “I, I...I love your bag. It’s really...uh, very beautiful.” 

“You think? I do some quilting in my spare time.” Ivy tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, blushing slightly. The bag in question really was remarkable--quilted velvet embroidered with an intricate botanical design. 

“You made that?!” Jinkx exclaimed. “Oh my god, what talent! Bianca, did you see?”

Bianca nodded, hiding an amused expression behind her water glass. 

“Yeah, it’s just a little hobby, I-oh!” Ivy turned to the waiter, who was approaching with a takeout bag.

“Order for Gemini, here you go,” he said. 

“Thank you.” She took the bag gratefully and then turned back to Jinkx. “Um...nice to meet you, Ms. Monsoon-” 

“No, no, please! That’s my mother! Ha ha! Um, call me Jinkx!” 

“Of course, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry! Um, it was  _ very _ nice meeting you. Officially, you know. Ha ha. Very lovely.” 

“Yes,” Ivy smiled again, taking a step backwards, then said, “And I’ll be sure to get your message to Raja, Ms. Del Rio.”

“Thanks, Ivy!” Bianca waved as she exited, waiting until she was out the door before turning back to Jinkx and exhaling. “Wow…I just realized I’ve never seen you flirt sober before.” 

“Was it terrible?” 

“Excruciating,” Bianca reported with a light cackle. 

Jinkx whimpered, letting her head drop onto the table. She knew that Bianca was right--things used to be so easy, but these days? She was so awkward. Not that she regretted her sobriety, exactly, but….

“Sorry, red. Yikes.”

“I mean, I know my skin is better and my kidneys are healthy again, and I can like, hold a job and all that...but go-od…” 

Bianca laughed, reaching across the table to pat her lovingly on the back. 

“You’ll be alright. So tell me...what’s the show?” 

Jinkx perked up immediately, brown eyes sparkling as she said. “Well...I almost don’t want to say, because obviously it’s not official yet and if it doesn’t happen that would just be awful, but-” 

“Tell me!” 

“Evita.” As Jinkx delivered the news, she was now smiling so much that her cheeks started to hurt. Her  _ dream _ role, since she was a kid. And it was almost  _ maybe _ hers. 

“Hell yeah, bitch!” Bianca gave her a high five. “Back on top!”

“High flying, adored,” Jinkx said drily, and Bianca cackled loudly. 

***

Courtney shifted on the hard cafeteria seat, avoiding Violet’s eyes as they ate their lunch. 

She’d been helping Violet put together the packets for the afternoon meeting, and when they finished early, Violet surprised Courtney by asking if she wanted to go down to lunch together while Fame was out.

It was great to have done decent enough work that Violet didn’t snap at her all morning, but at the same time, the kindness from her coworker made Courtney feel even guiltier than she already did. 

Neither Violet nor Fame had noticed anything amiss in Fame’s office--which was a relief. Courtney had fully expected to get interrogated over a paperweight moving 2 inches to the left or some other thing that she’d neglected to fix after the Willam disaster. 

And now, as she sat with Violet, both of them quickly eating their salads, the guilt continued to eat away at her. 

“The collection was absolutely wonderful, I unfortunately didn’t get to see it on the runway, but Miss was asked backstage, and I was allowed to come as well, so-”

Violet was actually talking, sharing about the shows and the clothes she had seen. 

“I think you’d genuinely enjoy what they’re doing with silk-”

Courtney didn’t care about fashion as deeply as Violet did, but it was nice to hear her be enthusiastic, and it was the small smile Violet gave her when she accidentally caught her gaze that broke her. 

It made her feel just awful, unworthy of trust or kindness. 

“Violet,” Courtney burst out, interrupting her coworker, “I have to tell you something!” 

Violet paused, surprise clear on her face.

“Something… Something bad happened last week.”

“Is everything okay?" Violet sounded genuinely concerned, and Courtney felt even worse. 

“I’m...you know that guy I was dating?" Courtney asked, chewing nervously on her lip, throat feeling dry and scratchy. How was she supposed to explain this?

"Oh?” Violet looked confused. “So it’s not work related?”

“In a way, but, also not-”

“So it’s a romantic situation?"

"I mean...I guess? But it’s more that he- You know-"

“Courtney.” Violet heaved a sigh, cutting her off with a wave of the hand. "I appreciate that you want to share, but I don’t think I have anything worth saying about your love life.”

“Well-” Courtney stopped, suddenly realizing how foolish it would be to unburden herself this way. Instead, she should probably just count her lucky stars that nobody knew, that she still had a job and an income and a way to stay in the country, and shut her damn mouth. The guilt sucked, but she could live with it--she had to. “Right. Right. Sorry.”

“It’s your own business,” Violet tilted her head slightly. “You don’t need anyone’s-” Violet was cut off as her phone vibrated, the screen lighting up. “Oh shit.”

“Miss?”

“Miss.”

***

Raja drummed her fingers on the table. Fame had moved the meeting up 45 minutes, and Raja could clearly feel that she hadn’t had anything to eat since that morning. Normally, she would be fine, food not really that important, but today the moved meeting felt especially insulting since she knew that her favorite lunch was getting cold on Ivy’s desk. 

“And then we have-“ Fame paused, Raja realizing that she hadn’t actually paid attention to what she was saying. “Urgh.” Fame groaned, and everyone sat up, Raja clearly sensing how they were all ready to jump in. “Where’s-“ Fame shuffled her papers, her lip between her teeth. “Courtney?!” Fame snapped her fingers, not looking up.

“Yes Miss?” Courtney pushed out from the wall, stepping up to the table, Raja not even realizing that she was the assistant who had been present.

“Packets, please.”

“Right away.” Courtney smiled, and Raja turned in her chair to watch her grab a stack of folders. She had never noticed Courtney much, her own personal assessment that the assistant would barely last the first month, but as she watched Courtney hand everything out, she almost looked put together.

“Here.” Courtney gave Fame the last packet, the blonde taking it without even sparing a glance in Courtney’s direction.

“If everyone could turn to page 5 please,” Fame flipped through, another sound coming from her. “Courtney,” Fame held out her hand, “I need-”

“Of course.” Courtney said, cutting her off as she handed Fame one of her favorite pens.

“A pen….” Fame looked up, her blue eyes focusing on Courtney. “Huh.”

Raja quickly held up her papers, hiding a smile. It was so rare to see Fame be surprised, and while Courtney was only doing her job, it seemed like it was time for Raja to actually pay proper attention to her.

“Anything else?” Courtney tilted her head, a smile on her lips.

“No.” Fame clicked the pen, putting it to her papers. “That’s all.” 

***

“You’re humming.”

Violet looked up from her computer, her mouth falling open. “Oh…” She could feel herself blush, light heat rising in her cheeks. “Sorry.” Violet hadn’t realised she had been humming, but so far, she had had a very pleasant Thursday morning.

“No, no,” Courtney shook her head, “It was nice. What were you singing?” Violet considered for a second if it would be worth responding, but she had gotten more used to Courtney, the blonde no longer as mindlessly chattery or overly bubbly. “I didn’t recognize it.”

“It’s Tchaikovsky.”

“Gesundheit.”

Violet rolled her eyes, not dignifying Courtney’s obvious tease with a response, when the phone rang in Fame’s signature tone.

Violet reached out, getting the phone only seconds before Courtney, and Violet raised a brow in surprise. Before Paris, Courtney had been avoiding Fame’s calls like the plague, but it seemed like something had finally changed.

“Hello?” Violet bit her lip as she noted down Fame’s rapidfire morning instructions, the rustles on the phone clearly telling her that Fame was putting her coat on at home. Violet was cut off as Fame hung up, the paper in front of her filled with instructions.

Violet looked up, ready to pass the instructions on to Courtney, which was when she noticed that Courtney had already printed the phone sheet, and that she was pinning the day's schedule without being told that she had to do it.

“Courtney.”

“Yes?” Courtney spun around. She was wearing appropriately muted colors, everything for once looking cohesive.

“If you sweep the office,” Violet reached under her desk, reaching into her bag. “I’ll get the coffee.”

“You?” Courtney sounded genuinely confused, her fingers already closed around the fabric of her jacket, and while Violet didn’t want to acknowledge it, she was pretty sure she was feeling proud. “You never get the coffee.”

“I do,” Violet stood up, her purse in hand, “when I know that I can leave the office. You stay here, where it’s warm.”

***

“Yeeeees! High five!” 

Pearl smiled brightly, reaching over to high five Adore. When she’d called earlier suggesting that they spend the day together, Pearl had been expecting something entirely different. She was a Del Rio, after all, and Bianca was notorious for her enjoying all the finest luxuries life had to offer. But unlike her sister, Adore seemed to have endearingly low-rent taste. She’d shown up at Pearl’s door with a case of PBR, armfuls of snacks from the corner Bodega, and a request to play video games. 

The two of them had been vegging out for hours, first playing Grand Theft Auto, then Streetfighter, now onto RockBand, only leaving the sofa to pee and answer the door for the pizza guy, Trixie and Katya accepting Adore’s bribe of extra cheese and garlic knots with no complaints at all. 

“You are rocking the mic, girl!” Pearl said, “Although I guess that’s to be expected from an actual real-life rock star.”

Adore smiled, clearly pleased at Pearl’s praise. 

“Thanks, baby. You’re not too bad on the guitar either. Maybe you should join us at our next gig.”

Pearl laughed and took a swig of her beer, flipping through the song choices. 

“I think my rock career needs to stay strictly virtual,” she said, nudging Adore gently with her foot. “But you do have to tell me about your next gig. I can’t wait to see you perform.” 

“Yeah?” Adore’s eyes lit up happily. 

“Yeah bitch, it’s not every day you can say you’re fucking the lead singer!” 

Adore giggled, lashes fluttering as she pulled Pearl in for a sticky kiss, her mouth tasting like the sweet and sour gummy worms she’d been eating. 

“Uhh...do you wanna-”

“Yes! Living on a Prayer!” Adore laughed, looking at the TV screen. “You’re going  _ down _ , Liaison!” 

“That’s exactly what I was about to suggest,” Pearl said with a sly grin. 

“Well shit, I’m not gonna say no to that!” Adore threw down her mic and let Pearl grab her hand and pull her into the bedroom. 

***

“Is this all of it?”

“Yes Miss.”

Fame swallowed a sigh. She knew that the budget was important, knew her meetings with Jaida were a necessary evil, but that didn’t stop her from being bored to tears whenever a set of numbers was in front of her. They had been slightly more bearable when Patrick had been overseeing the finances, watching her husband yap away about budget cuts at least somewhat interesting as long as his sleeves had been rolled up.

“Violet-” Fame saw Violet pause at the door, her fingers gripping the doorframe. “Stay for a moment please.”

“Yes Miss.” Violet turned around, “Open or closed?” 

“Open doors are fine.” Fame had to hide a smile, Violet so wonderfully obedient, the clever little mouse asking without words if she was in trouble or not. “Come sit.”

Violet walked over, the sound of her heels disappearing in Fame’s white carpet. Violet sat down, her black skirt taking up most of the white velvet chair, quickly tugging her feet under the chair. “What can I do for you Miss?”

“What do you think of Courtney’s recent performance?”

“Me?” Violet sounded genuinely surprised, and Fame waited for a second, just to watch Violet squirm, the other woman obviously uncomfortable, and oh how she’d miss it.

“Is there anyone else in here?”

“No, no of course-” Violet was smoothing down her skirt, her hand gliding over the fabric, her brown eyes wide. “No.”

“So?” Fame raised a brow.

“Courtney is…” Violet took a moment, her lip between her perfectly white teeth. “Adequate.”

Fame bit down on a grin, Violet’s sense of humor so wonderfully dry.

“She’s exceeding expectations.”

“Good.” Fame leaned back in her chair, not noticing how Violet was tugging at her skirt over and over again. 

“Is there-”

“I want you to proceed with the paperwork for your promotion.”

“Oh?” Violet sat up straight, quickly putting her notebook in her lap. “Should I-”

“Trixie will have to wait until Courtney is fully trained, of course.”

“Fully?” Violet hesitated, and Fame loved how obvious it was that she wanted to ask, the look in her eyes desperate as she was searching for a way to say what she needed without sounding stupid. “How much longer will that-”

“Violet, don’t be silly.” Fame smirked, “It’ll be when she lives up to your satisfaction of course.”

Violet’s eyes widened. “So, that means, if she’s-”

“Adequate?” Fame so enjoyed using Violet’s own words against her. “That’s all.” 


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Violet got one step closer to her dream.
> 
> This Chapter: Violet shares her good news, Courtney finds out about her new position, Bianca makes a request, and Katya shows Trixie who’s boss.

“Anything for you sir?”

“Whiskey on the rocks please.”

Sutan smiled at the bartender, who quickly left him. He was waiting for Violet at The Nomad Bar, the woman promising that she’d be there, but she was already 10 minutes late. 

It was weird with Violet, something about her somehow tricking him into forgiving the fact that she was chronically late for everything that wasn’t work related. Sutan was wondering if he’d have time for a cigarette, their dinner reservation still not for another hour, when he felt someone touch his shoulder.

“Hey.” Violet pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, her lips soft, the pleasant scent of lavender washing over him. 

“Hello.” Sutan smiled. Violet looked absolutely stunning as always, though she was wearing what he now recognized as her work wardrobe, a black skirt and a white silk blouse so proper he wanted to tear it off her. 

Sutan expected Violet to sit down or to start chatting, or at least apologize for being late, words always spilling from her when they met up because Violet wasn’t a texter, but today, she was just standing there, an excited but secretive expression on her face.

“What’s going on?” Sutan titled his head.

“Guess.”

“Guess?” Sutan smiled. “Okay, so, what category am I-”

“You’re looking at Galactica’s newest designer!” Violet burst out, a gigantic grin on her beautiful face, her eyes shining bright. 

“Wow,” Sutan laughed, Violet absolutely beautiful in her joy. “Congratulations lovely eye-”

“Can you believe it?!” Violet squealed, putting her arms around Sutan and almost jumping in place, her excitement so thick he could taste it, the poor girl almost bursting at the seams with emotions.

“I can, actually,” Sutan smiled, a hand on Violet’s hip quickly guiding her down on the chair next to him. “Bartender!” Sutan yelled, “Champagne for the lady please.”

Violet giggled. She put her hand on Sutan’s thigh, leaning over to give him a kiss, a sweet whisper of ‘thank you’ left against his lips.

“I almost wish I had a cigar.”

“I’m glad you don’t.” Violet deadpanned, and Sutan snorted, Violet looking back at him with a smile. 

“So,” Sutan took the order, Violet getting her glass of champagne while he was handed his whiskey. “When is the happy day?” Sutan put a hand on Violet’s knee, squeezing it as Violet took the first sip of her bubbles.

“Soon.” Violet looked at him. “As soon as I can.”

***

“Courtney.” 

Courtney looked up from her computer, where she’d been updating Miss Fame’s schedule. She checked briefly to make sure that the phone call she was listening in on, a conversation between Fame and Trixie, was muted, and asked, “Yes?”

“I need you to know,” Violet was standing right in front of her desk, “that the 10th will be my last day working in this office.” 

“What?” Courtney’s eyes went wide in alarm. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Violet held up her hand, “Nothing’s wrong. I’m getting a promotion.” 

“Oh!” Courtney let out a sigh of relief--now that she knew it was good news, she relaxed a bit. If anyone deserved a promotion, it certainly was Violet. 

“I’m going to be working in design,” she added, an uncharacteristically proud expression on her face. 

“That’s awesome, Violet, I’m really happy for you.”

“I’m glad you’re taking it this well.”

“Of course!” Courtney smiled. “I’ll do whatever I can to make it easier: helping with the job description, interviews, whatever you need.”

The more Courtney thought about it, the more excited she got. Not that she had anything against Violet, but it would be so wonderful to have a coworker who was a real friend. 

“Interviews?” Violet’s brow furrowed in confusion. “For what?” 

“For your replacement?” Courtney said, trying not to sound like she was being patronizing, although the answer was painfully obvious. 

“Oh…” Violet just stared at her, blinking slowly, with that look she hadn’t given her for some time now, the one that said that Courtney was an alien doing a piss-poor human impression. “Huh.”

“What?” Courtney asked, suddenly self-conscious, knowing she must have put her foot in mouth but unsure how. 

“Courtney,” Violet said, exasperated, in a tone that may very well have added ‘you brain-dead moron,’ “You’re who’s been hired as my replacement.”

“But...wait, what?!” Courtney's mind raced, panic filling her chest. Replace Violet? “But then who will replace me?” 

“Nobody?” Violet looked like she genuinely didn’t understand. “You will be Miss Fame’s first assistant, and also her only assistant.”

“Shit.”

“Why do you think you were hired in the first place?” 

“I just thought, with how much work there is, that you’d...need…” Courtney trailed off, not wanting to appear even dumber than Violet obviously thought she was, mind still reeling from this news. 

Alone in Fame’s office? No one to guide her and lecture her and stop her from fucking everything up royally? 

“No, Courtney. Fame has always just had one assistant.”

“But...do you really think I can do it alone?” Courtney asked, her stomach tight.

“I do.” Violet said. “Your work has been decent, even adequate recently.”

Courtney almost flinched. All she’d ever wanted from Violet was approval, and maybe some general comradeship. But this was almost too much. Could she handle it?

“You’re ready.” Violet looked at her, a small smile actually on her face. “I’ve done this alone. The workload is heavy sometimes, but who knows, in time you might move from adequate to good.”

“If you say so…” Courtney said, swallowing down a lump in her throat.

***

“Are you done yet?” Adore whined. She was sprawled on the sofa in Bianca’s office, waiting for her sister to finish working so that they could go to dinner. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is my job, that supports us both, getting in the way of your plans?”

“Yeah, I told Pearl that we’d be done early. Plus I’m starving,” Adore informed her. 

“Ugh, I guess that means you haven’t broken up yet,” Bianca said with a sigh. 

“Don’t fucking start, Bianca.” Adore was in no mood to Bianca’s dumb opinions aout her girlfriend...who had been nothing but wonderful so far. 

“Fine, fine. So then are you still plus 2 for my party next Friday?” 

“Uh, I don’t know, I might just be plus 1. Courtney’s been real busy at work, I don’t know if she-” 

Bianca turned away from her computer, brow furrowed. 

“But you said she was coming!” 

“She  _ was _ coming, but I’m just not sure she’s gonna feel up to-” 

“Adore. I want her there,” Bianca said sternly, before flashing a charming smile, adding, “Consider it my birthday present.” 

Adore sat up straighter. “Listen, Bianca, I know you think she’s hot, but I really don’t think you should mess with her. First of all, she’s straight, and she just broke up with her boyfriend, and she’s really vulnerable, and-” 

“My specialty.”

“Bianca!” Adore’s face contorted in outrage. She knew about her sister’s reputation, of course, had seen the parade of girls with her own eyes plenty of times. But this was the first time she’d turned her attention to one of Adore’s friends, and it was extremely disconcerting, even if Courtney seemed to enjoy the attention. 

“Oh, calm down, I’m kidding,” Bianca said with a laugh. 

“Are you, though?” Adore crossed her arms, glaring across the office. 

“Yes, asshole! Listen, I know I joke, but the truth is, I only seduce the willing. Otherwise it’s just no fun,” she explained. “I just like her, that’s all. I want her to come. Please.” 

“Fine, fine. We’re supposed to hang out this weekend. Assuming she doesn’t cancel again, I’ll bring it up.” 

“Adore. Darling baby sister,” Bianca cooed. “Make it happen. Or I’ll cut you out of my will and leave everything to the dogs.”

“I’ll do my best.”

***

“Go to the bed.”

Katya smiled as Trixie scrambled to obey, like the sweet boy he was. No one else was home, Pearl out for the night, and for that very reason, the toy chest from underneath their bed had come out to play.

Katya caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and she couldn’t help but smile. She was all dolled up; her hair and makeup done by Trixie only an hour before when he had artfully curled her hair and carefully applied lipstick to her lips. Katya was wearing heels and a set of black lingerie that they only brought out whenever they played a very particular game. Katya had allowed Trixie to choose today, and he had picked a bright purple strap-on that was now nestled against Katya’s stomach.

Katya took a step toward where Trixie was laying on his back, and she could practically hear the sharp intake of breath, anticipation radiating off Trixie’s body.

“Did you lube yourself up for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes I did, I did what you asked me to-”

“Ssh.” Katya was now kneeling on the bed between Trixie’s spread legs; a smile on her lips as her hand gently glided over his soft stomach, dipping into his navel, onward to his puffy chest where she couldn’t help but play a little with his nipples. Trixie’s hips bucked a little at the sensation, sending his cock bouncing. He was already so hard, so filled with excitement about what Katya was about to do that he was practically dripping onto his own stomach, a small pool of precum collecting in the valleys on Trixie’s chubby middle.

“You look so good, all ready for me.”

Katya smiled as she gently pushed a manicured finger inside of Trixie; the passage was so smooth and easy that she added another one immediately, which made him whimper.

“Sssh, you’re being so good right now, let me play with you a little, let me feel my big, strong man, who always pleases me so well.”

Trixie nodded, his eyes scrunched shut as if it would be too overwhelming to see Katya’s fingers disappear into him.

“Turn around.”

Trixie nodded again, moving so fast Katya barely had time to get her fingers out before he was on his hands and knees. Katya couldn’t help but smile and lean down to give Trixie’s lower back a sweet kiss, the red lipstick she had worn for this scene leaving behind a perfect mark.

“Are you ready for me?”

Trixie didn’t answer her question with words, but with actions instead as he pushed back against her, a high whine leaving his throat, making Katya laugh.

“That’s my sweet boy, my sweet…” Katya pushed inside, her strap-on fitting perfectly into Trixie’s ass, “…amazing boy.”

Trixie moaned as she bottomed out inside of him, and it was the sexiest thing. Katya loved this, loved to take Trixie this way. She loved all of it, the control, the respect, the trust, the way Trixie gave everything over so completely as she set a rhythm, the amount of times they had done this together making it easy for Katya to circle her hips in just the right way to make Trixie shout with pleasure.

Katya snapped her hips faster and faster, her hand in the space between Trixie’s shoulders forcing him down as she took him and used him for her own pleasure. The constant pressure against her clit made Katya join in on Trixie’s moans with real sounds of her own pleasure. But it was not until she leaned down over Trixie, their bodies pressed together and the words “I love you” leaving her mouth that Trixie came all over the bed, his eyes seeing white as he shook apart underneath her.

When Trixie came back to, wrapped in Katya’s arms underneath their duvet, it was to the feeling of sweet kisses getting pecked onto the bald spots on his head. Trixie couldn’t help but smile, his chest warm with happiness as he looked up at Katya.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, sugar butt.”

***

Violet had done the unthinkable, which meant that she hadn’t done anything at all.

It was her last day in Miss Fame’s office, and she had come in at 9, only arriving 15 minutes before Fame, not lifting a single finger to complete the morning routine.

It was all in Courtney’s hands.

So far today, she had opened her email and gone to get coffee, making sure to include the peach tea for herself that she was sipping that very moment, taking notes and keeping a keen eye on Courtney, the notes most of all for show to keep Courtney on her toes. 

When Violet had suggested this dress rehearsal, Courtney had looked like she had wanted to die, but so far, she wasn’t doing terribly.

Sure, she was stressing over what Violet considered simple tasks, and she had almost missed a phone call, but Fame had requested adequate, and Courtney was delivering just that, without a single irritating joke or any clownish airheaded behavior, even when she was flailing. 

***

“Don’t you want some pizza?” Adore looked over at Courtney, who was on her phone, dealing with some work thing for the third time since she’d arrived. She set the box on the coffee table and took a seat.

“No… I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

When Adore didn’t get a reply, she grabbed a piece of pizza herself instead, trying to figure out what was going on in Courtney’s head. 

Between Courtney’s work schedule and Adore’s blissful new-relationship bubble, they’d barely seen each other at all since Adore got back from Paris. But when they had, Courtney had been acting strange: subdued, a muted version of her normally exuberant personality. Adore wondered if she was depressed, and felt like a pretty shitty friend for not noticing sooner. 

“Court…” 

“Hmm?” 

“What actually happened with Willam?” Adore asked carefully. “You never really told me the whole story.” 

“There’s nothing to tell. He turned out to be a disgusting, lying jerk, just like every other man I’ve ever been with,” Courtney said, flinging an arm over her eyes and lying back on Adore’s purple sofa.

Adore didn’t have a lot to add to that, because as far as she knew, it was kinda true. For as long as she’d known Courtney, her bestie had had the worst luck with guys. But usually, she bounced back right away, onto the next adventure...this seemed different. 

“I’m sorry,” she replied lamely. 

“It’s not your fault.  _ You’re _ not a douchebag,” Courtney said. 

“So…hey, are you still coming to my sister’s party next week?”

“I don’t know, Dore. It’s gonna be the end of my first week in the office alone, and I’m gonna be so tired. Third-wheeling at a fancy party where I don’t have anything to wear doesn’t sound-” 

“Come on, you always look great! And it won’t be third-wheeling! If anyone’s third-wheeling, it’s Pearl,” Adore giggled, reaching out to tug gently on her hair. 

“Look, I know you love them, but the idea of being at a party with my boss, and Raja, and all their friends is-” 

“It’s gonna be a huge party, you probably won’t even see them!” 

“Right.” Courtney rolled her eyes. 

“If you don’t come, Bianca will be so disappointed.” 

“Oh yeah, I’m sure she really cares whether  _ I _ come,” Courtney said sarcastically, shaking her head. 

“She does! She even asked me to make sure you, you know, have all the right info. She definitely cares. She thinks you’re cool.” 

“Well…” Courtney suppressed a smile, biting her lip. “Really?” 

“Yes. Cross my heart. So please come.” 

“I guess I can ask Ivy to lend me a dress from the wardrobe closet at work.” 

“There you go! Plus, it’ll be a great party,” Adore insisted. “I promise you’ll have fun.” 

Courtney nodded, finally looking at Adore with a sparkle back in her eyes as she reached forward to grab a piece of pizza. Adore grinned, but her happiness dissolved into confusion as she then watched her scrape the cheese off before taking a bite. 

“What are you doing?” Adore asked, horrified. 

“I’m vegan now. You know this, I told you weeks ago.” 

“You’re  _ still  _ doing that? Dear god, why?” Adore moaned. 

“Well, I’ve been really stressed and low energy and I think this will make me feel better, and sleep better, and give me some balance back. And it’s something concrete that I can do for the planet. Did you know that the meat and dairy industry-” 

“Okay, okay!” Adore held up her hand, laughing. “I don’t need a whole essay.” 

After a slight pause, Courtney sighed and said, “I’m sorry.” 

“For what, bae?” 

“I know I’ve been in a shitty mood. I’m sure it hasn’t been fun to be around.” 

“Honey, it’s okay. You just went through a breakup, it’s totally understandable.” 

“It’s not even that,” Courtney said. 

“No?” 

“No, it’s just...work is…” Courtney sighed again. “It’s hard to explain. But I am done with men.” 

“Oh yeah? You gonna come to the dark side?” Adore asked, fluttering her lashes. 

“Ha. I wish.” 

***

“Baby!”

“Yes?” Trixie was making breakfast, the eggs sizzling away in their pan. He turned, just to see Katya round the corner, a look of panic in her eyes. She was wearing an open shirt with a puppy print on it, her orange skirt around her hips, her hair barely collected in a loose bun, miniature pencils dangling from her ears.

“I just remembered-” Katya paused, “Hey,” she snapped her fingers, “eyes up her here,” and Trixie grinned at the fact that he had been caught openly staring at her tits. 

“It’s Violet’s first day at design today. Why didn’t you remind me? I have nothing planned to celebrate and this is huge for he-”

“Hey, hey,” Trixie reassured her, putting an arm around his fiance. “I got it.” Trixie titled his head, and Katya turned to look at their kitchen table, a gigantic framed sheet of pink paper on it.

It hadn’t been easy to find photos of Violet, the woman apparently avoiding cameras like she was being paid to do it, but Trixie had still managed to find quite a few, Katya, Violet and Shangela all smiling at the brunch table on the roof.

“Did you make this?”

“I’m taking offence at that, this is a Mattel original, I poured my heart into this.”

Trixie smiled as Katya was hanging on to his shoulder, moved by her fiancé’s work. “I plan on putting it on her desk.”

“She’s going to despise that.”

“Probably.” Trixie chuckled, and Katya gave him a kiss. He had expected it to be short and sweet, but Katya pushed him against the cabinet, her hips flush with his.

“… Are you turned on by the fact that I made a collage?”

“Maybe.”

“Good enough for me.”


	35. Violet in Design

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Violet’s promotion became official, and Bianca set her sights on a certain blonde. 
> 
> This Chapter: Violet begins her new job, and things are not exactly what she expected.

Even though everything was technically all the same, Violet felt like she had walked into a completely different building.

She had greeted Roxy with a smile, the receptionist at her desk when Violet had walked in at 9:30 for her visit with HR, people actually present unlike when Violet usually came in at the crack of dawn. Trixie had insisted that she take a slow morning, almost forbidding her to come in with the rest of the floor, and Violet guessed that it made sense since it was her first day.

Violet walked out of the elevator, her heels clacking on the floor, her stomach filled with butterflies. 

Her morning had been a lot more messy than she preferred. She had changed her clothes a million times, unsure what to wear, until she had finally settled on a simple long sleeved top and a full skirt. It was completely Fame approved, but Violet felt comfortable in it, none of it too flashy or attention grabbing. Violet knew how to use a sewing machine in heels, but she still had a pair of flats in her bag, just in case someone truly cared about the company's safety guidelines. 

She paused in front of the door, smoothing down her skirt, one, two, three times, before grabbing the handle and opening the door to the first day of the rest of her life. 

“Violet!” Trixie smiled brightly, standing up from where he had been leaning over Gia’s shoulder, who was somehow still miraculously working at the company - even after her screw up in the Fall. “Welcome! I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Oh,” Violet stopped. She couldn’t remember ever being greeted with so much enthusiasm when coming into work, but it was nice, very nice. “I’m happy to be here?”

“Yes you are,” Trixie grinned, walking over to her, the man wearing a somewhat ridiculous white t-shirt with a pink and blue band logo Violet didn’t recognise. “We’re going to have so much fun, but first-"

Trixie clapped his hands, catching the attention of the entire department who all turned to them.

“This is Violet Chachki, you all already know her as Fame’s assistant,” Trixie smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Say hi.”

“Hello,” Violet said, lifting her hand in greeting. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself, the whole thing horribly embarrassing, everyone looking at her. Violet wasn’t unused to attention, but she disliked it heavily when it was focused on her person, and not on something she had created.

She attempted a smile, doing her very best not to let anyone know how awkward she felt.

“She is going to be working with us now here in the best department of Galactica!” Trixie released her, earning a laugh from everyone. “I want you all to make her feel welcome and settled since we all know what it was like to be new,” he finished with a lot of them looking on with slight smiles and waves.

“You got it coach!”

Violet turned to look at the source of the voice, an incredibly tall bald man with a gigantic smile and a raspy voice the one who had called out. Violet recognized Bob, who was the design department's project manager, though she didn’t think she had ever seen him in Fame’s office.

“Let me show you around.” Trixie looped their arms together, dragging Violet with him before she had the chance to put down her bag, or even take off her jacket. 

The design floor was a myriad of various fabrics in countless colors and prints with a multitude of textures to choose from.

Dress forms, in an assortment of sizes, lined the walls under large glass windows that brought in natural light and a beautiful view, of the east side, of Central Park.

The floor had neat rows of long work tables each with their own computers, drawing sections, sewing machines, hanging dress form and a rolling stool.

“Aaaaaaaand this, is your desk!” Trixie smiled brightly, throwing an arm out as he showed Violet her place. 

“What…” Violet looked at the big collage that was put right in the middle. “Is that?”

“Right?” Trixie grinned, clearly very proud of himself “I made it for you.”

“Oh…” Violet bit her lip, unease welling up in her body. The gesture was kind, but it was strange to see so many pictures of herself, most of all because she had no idea when most of them had actually been taken. “Thank you.” She was sure she could stuff it in her drawer later, the paper looking sturdy enough to be shoved down there.

“Don’t mention it,” Trixie gave her a halfarm hug, holding her against his side for a minute. “Now, next on the agenda- Jovan, pay attention.”

“Sure thing coach.”

Violet watched as Jovan turned around, the man sitting backwards on his chair, one of his long limbs pulled up in what looked like an extremely uncomfortable position. 

“Hello.” Jovan smiled, a gigantic white toothed grin on his face. He was bald, the top of his head somehow not smooth like Bob’s, but instead sort of wrinkly.

“Jovan will be your desk mate.”

Violet had wondered who she’d be seated next to, and while she had never actually spoken to Jovan, he wasn’t her worst option.

“Hello,” Violet held out her hand, “I’m Violet.”

“Please,” Jovan snorted, grabbing her hand in a surprisingly hard grip. “I already know who you are.”

“Jovan is one of our contemporary designers.”

Violet nodded, hiding a smile. It was clear as day that Jovan was in contemporary, his shirt a multicolored almost neon asymmetrical tunic. 

“One of the best,” Jovan squeezed her hand, letting it go, “contemporary designers. Don’t touch my stuff, and I promise that you and I will get along great.”

“Jovan-” Trixie started scolding, but Violet cut in.

“I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Violet put her bag on the table. She had never seen Trixie scold anyone, but judging by the furrow of his brow, Jovan was toeing the line. 

“What’s on the agenda, coach?” Jovan had somehow managed to cross his legs around the chair, a pencil dangling from his mouth. 

“Oh,” Trixie smiled, and Violet reached inside her bag, grabbing her notebook. “Violet has the morning off.”

“Wha-” Violet paused, unsure if she had heard Trixie correctly. “Excuse me, what did you say?” It was only Monday, but Violet knew that design had their weekly department wide meetings every Thursday, and if she was being honest, she had expected to be thrown directly into the work, the Christmas collection just around the corner.

“The morning off.” Trixie grinned. “Decorate your desk, say hi to everyone, get all your little knick knacks in order and later we’ll have cake to celebrate your first day.”

***

Jovan groaned slightly. He was supposed to be working on the holiday collection but he just couldn’t seem to find an interesting angle. 

Jovan didn’t like making gowns, and though he had managed once or twice to sneak in a pants suit or something mildly interesting, Raja and Fame had a clear almost inarguable preference towards high classic glamor when it came to the holidays.

He flipped back and forth between his sketches, pencil in his mouth, erasing a line here of adding one there. After a bit, he sensed a disturbance in the energy, his attention shifted slightly across the table to his new deskmate. 

Violet was sitting at her desk, tapping her nails on the wood, her lip between her teeth as she was looking out on the department. She was practically radiating nervous energy, her desk already all neatly set up. 

Jovan noticed a leather bound planner, a collection of pens and pencils in an empty Dior box, a thick stack of sketching paper, as well as a well stocked sewing kit, a golden pair of scissors sticking out.

She seemed to be in worse shape than he was, clearly not used to being given idle creative time, and Jovan smiled slightly, deciding to take pity on her. 

“Hey, Violet.” Jovan pushed his chair out, scooting over to her table. “I’m working on this dress,” Jovan put his sketches down on Violet’s desk, “and I can’t figure out the hem length. Will you check it out?” 

“Oh, um, sure…” Violet leaned over the desk table, pushing a bit of her hair behind her ear. Jovan hadn’t noticed the bracelet or her rings before, the golden jewelry clearly well worn, but also well taken care of. “What’s the problem?”

“See, I’m trying it three different ways, but they all feel wrong...” Jovan tapped his sketches, already enjoying how seriously Violet considered the question, examining each sketch closely and looking at them back and forth a few times before attempting an answer. 

“I like the length on the second one, but the shoulders on the third one might balance it out more,” she finally said, and he smiled. 

“Yeah, good call, thanks!” Jovan stretched, yawning slightly. He was already feeling much better, but Violet still looked lost. 

“I need caffeine.” Jovan stood up. “You wanna come for some espresso or a latte or something?” 

“Oh.” Violet looked genuinely surprised at his request, sneaking a quick glaze at Trixie’s closed office door before she made up her mind. “Um, alright…” Violet reached for her coat, but Jovan stopped her. 

“No,” Jovan smiled. “I just mean the espresso machine we have in the break room.” Jovan pointed over his shoulder, Violet following his fingers, her brow furrowing. “You did know that we have a break room down here, right?” 

Jovan had heard the rumor that Fame only drank Starbucks, though he hadn’t imagined that her assistants shared the luxury, but Violet shook her head, the woman both looking mystified and curious, and Jovan realised that he had never actually seen her in any of the Galactica break rooms ever.

“Come on,” Jovan grabbed her elbow, giving it a squeeze. “I’ll show you.” 

***

“Stop, omigod, I can’t breathe,” Maxwell wheezed, clutching Bob’s shoulder and practically choking with laughter at his boyfriend’s story. 

“No, but listen. Then Acid turned to him and-”

Maxwell reached up and covered Bob’s mouth with his hand, having just spotted Jovan strolling towards the break room with Violet in tow. 

“Incoming mole,” he warned, giving a nod with his head. 

Maxwell had been working at Galactica for his entire career - over ten years now. He’d seen many assistants come and go from Miss Fame’s office. 

Most of the time, they moved on to other jobs in the industry, working for buyers or as stylists. Occasionally, they were promoted within the company. Shangela had started off as Fame’s assistant years ago, and so had Laganja in marketing. But this was the first time anyone had been sent to design. Granted, Violet was one of the more competent and longer-lasting assistants, but still. 

He was suspicious. 

Bob seemed perfectly ready to welcome Violet to the family with open arms. Maxwell, on the other hand, was more cautious, and the last thing he wanted was for Violet to walk in on some debaucherous story about drag queens. 

“Look professional!” he hissed, before removing his hand. 

“First of all, I’m always professional. And second, would you relax?” Bob smirked, leaning against the table, his favorite mug in hand. “She seems perfectly nice.” 

“Oh please,” Maxwell huffed, “You just want upstairs gossip.”

For as long as Bob has been at the company--nearly as long as Maxwell, he’d been utterly fascinated with senior management. Their weird quirks and tempestuous moods, all the tabloid nonsense. 

“Uh!” Bob gasped, holding a hand to his chest. “I resent that!” 

“Well, resent it or not, it’s true,” Maxwell quipped. 

“You name  _ one time _ when I’ve been the source of gossip around here,” Bob said, a hand on his hip, in full queen mode. 

“That’s...what...all the time!” Maxwell sputtered, caught off guard by that ridiculous defense. Bob was a notorious gossip. He was the only person Maxwell knew who still talked on the phone with multiple people every day, for  _ fun _ . It was half the reason why they’d never moved in together, Maxwell unable to imagine living with Bob’s need to talk on the phone for hours in the evening. Maxwell enjoyed people too, sometimes, but after work, he more often than not wanted some peace and solitude. 

“So you can’t name one  _ specific _ time? Interesting.” Bob’s brown eyes glittered with amusement, always the happiest when he was in teasing mode. 

“You’re impossible!” Maxwell turned to Jovan, who was now busy with the espresso machine. “Bob says he’s not a gossip.” 

“Ha!” Jovan snorted. “Violet, what do you want?”

“An americano is more than fine.” Violet smiled, and Maxwell realised that he wasn’t sure if he had ever seen that expression on the former assistants face before. 

He had never spoken with her before, Ivy always the assistant who came along to the design meetings, but he had seen her follow Fame down the halls, and he still remembered how bad he had felt for her during Fame’s temperature meltdown at their September show.

“Violet, Violet, Violet,” Bob put a hand down, turning his body towards her. “Do not listen to them.” Bob pouting at both Maxwell and Jovan. “I’m not a gossip. I’m a very trustworthy confidante, so if you have anything you need to share about, you know,  _ upstairs _ ...I’m all ears.” Bob grinned. 

“Ah!” Maxwell cried triumphantly, “Case in fucking point you fucking gossip!”

“Upstairs?” Violet looked genuinely confused for a moment.

“You know,” Bob pointed at the ceiling, “Upstairs.”

“Ah.” 

Maxwell made a face at Bob, clearing his throat slightly. 

Why did he have to reveal everything right away? They didn’t know how trustworthy this girl was yet, and so they should really assume zero percent. It was the only safe and logical conclusion. 

“Sorry, assistant code,” said Violet with an apologetic shrug. “My lips are sealed” 

“Wow. Okay, I see how it is,” Bob said, and Maxwell rolled his eyes. 

“Honestly Bob, what if she’d come down here and started reporting all kinds of rumors? Wouldn’t that make you concerned?” he asked, reaching up to tug on on Bob’s ear. 

“Concerned…. Entertained… Potato, potahto.” Bob grinned, taking another sip from his mug.

“Goddammit,” Jovan said, struggling with the machine. “Cracks, can you help me? This fucking thing, we need a new one-” 

“Sure.” Maxwell stepped over to the machine to assist. He remembered when Trixie first got it for them, almost six years ago, how everyone had just gone crazy over it. But lately it was acting up, and the designers were not pleased when they needed to wait an extra 30 seconds for coffee. The company should really take care of it before there was some kind of mutiny. He made a mental note to talk to Trixie later. 

“So, Violet,” Bob continued, “How’s it going? Is our boy Jovan being cool, or is he in one of his moods?” 

“Fuck off,” Jovan cut in, sitting down heavily. “I’m fucking delightful.” 

Maxwell chuckled to himself over that, Jovan’s stormy moods something everyone in the department knew intimately. 

“He’s been very kind,” Violet said, her hand gripping the edge of her skirt.

“Yeah, yeah.” Bob smiled, rolling his eyes. “Look, Violet, let me give you some advice,” Bob turned to Jovan. “You’ve gotta pay attention to that big vein in his forehead, and when it starts popping out...run.” 

“Oh.”

“Eat a dick, Bob.” 

“Yours?” Bob looked down, leering at Max’s brown khakis, a grin on his face, “Or like, any dick?” Bob teased, wiggling his brows. “Either way, I’m down.” 

Maxwell rolled his eyes, giving Bob a Look intended to say ‘not in mixed company,’ gesturing towards Violet, the poor girl probably scandalized by this kind of talk, judging from her ramrod straight posture and demurely folded hands. 

He turned to Jovan for backup, only to find him sitting at one of the tables, big wrinkly head in his hands. Maxwell tapped him on the shoulder, hoping to help him avoid an existential crisis before eleven am. 

“How’s the Hanukkah dress?” Maxwell asked, which is what he’d been jokingly calling the blue cocktail number that poor Jovan was working on. Jovan rolled his eyes. 

“Killing me. Violet had a good idea though, so I guess I’ll try that.” 

“Are you gonna embroider a menorah on the front?” Maxwell teased. 

“No, I was thinking that the skirt would just be a giant dreidel.” 

Maxwell laughed at that, though truth be told, you could never be too sure with Jovan. He might just do it. 

“Did Coach assign you anything yet, Violet?” Bob asked. 

“No..” Violet tilted her head. “Is there a reason you call him that?”

“Oh. Yeah. So, Trixie’s the only straight guy around here-” 

“Straight  _ identified _ ,” Maxwell corrected, and Violet snorted, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

“Yeah, so, we like to give him shit. We call him Coach. You know...” Bob made his hand into a fist and punched Violet very lightly on the shoulder, deepening his voice. “Coach!” 

“He’s the only straight guy, and of course he’s the one in charge of the department,” Jovan added pointedly. 

“Well, yes, there’s also that,” Bob chuckled. “Anyway, have you gotten an assignment for the holiday collection? I’ve seen some pictures of your student stuff,” Trixie had dropped by with Violet’s portfolio, shoving it to Bob who had loved flipping through it. “I assumed you’d be doing gowns most of the time.” 

“No-” Violet opened her mouth, but then seemed to rethink it, and close it again. “Not yet.” 

“So...Chachki,” Maxwell said, handing her coffee over. “Are you Jewish?” 

“No,” Violet said simply, and Bob burst out laughing. 

“She said  _ nope _ ,” he giggled, popping the p.

“Well, where are you from? What’s your deal? Tell us everything,” Maxwell continued, undeterred by Bob’s laughter. 

“Oh. Um… There’s not much to tell. I graduated from Parsons a few years ago. I’m originally from Atlanta-” 

“Hey! Me too!” Bob exclaimed. “I’m from Clayton County. Where’d you go to high school?” 

“-But I’ve been in New York since I was 13.” 

“Oh, gotcha.” 

“I got a job working for Miss Fame, and...that’s about it.” Violet looked around, her lip between her teeth. 

“Wow. Fascinating,” 

“Sorry, I’m not very interesting.”

“No no,” Maxwell said. “You should write a memoir.” 

“Omigod, she’s like twelve years old, leave her alone,” Bob said. “In case you haven’t noticed, Violet, these guys are a  _ mess _ and you should ignore 98% of everything they say.” 

Bob put his arm around Maxwell, squeezing him affectionately even as the insults rolled off his tongue. 

“And what about you?” Maxwell asked. 

“Me?” Bob asked. “Oh,  _ fully _ same.” 

***

“What,” Violet was staring at the table, a brown concoction staring right back at her, “on earth is this?”

“You never seen one before?” Alexis smiled, getting in next to her, “They call it a cronut, girl. Everyone in the city is obsessed with them,” she grabbed one, “and they’re delicious.”

Violet had spent lunch with Alexis, Gia and April, the three women slipping back and forth between English and Spanish, their conversation practically impossible to follow, but Violet hadn’t minded. 

It had been incredibly nice to just sit with someone for lunch without constantly checking her phone, Violet unsure if she had ever actually had an uninterrupted lunch break at Galactica before.

“Huh.” Violet bit her lip, still not too sure about the offered treat. “Are we already-”

“Hey, Violet-” Violet turned her head to see Blu slip in next to her, a big smile on the Irish woman's beautiful face. Her ginger hair was pushed back with a hairband, her grey eyes attentive and kind. “Are you coming to the happy hour?”

“Happy hour?”

“Mmh,” Blu nodded, “a couple of us always go round the corner for a pint on Mondays at 5:30. You know, for bonding and stuff.”

“Huh.” Violet bit her lip. She had seen Blu and Gia working that morning, but it seemed strange to her that they were expecting to be let go at 5:30, the whole thing even stranger since both Blu and Gia were actively enjoying the pastries.

“So, you coming?”

“Oh, no,” Violet did her best to smile, to look genuinely apologetic. “I can’t.” 

Sutan had texted her about whether or not she wanted to come over after work, and Violet couldn’t wait to cuddle up on the couch, tucked safe and sound under Sutan’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Blu smiled, though Violet wasn’t sure it actually was based on the look in her eyes, “You can come next time-”

“Violet!” Blu was cut off as Trixie came over, “Blu! Are you enjoying the cronuts?”

“Yes boss,” Blu held up her cronut, over half of it gone. “It’s delicious.”

“Have you had any, Violet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Here.” Trixie grabbed a plate, quickly scooping one up for her. “It’s pumpkin chai this month!”

“Thanks.” Violet took it, unsure what to do. It wasn’t that she hated all desserts, wasn’t that she hated all sweets, but what she did hate was trying new things when she was feeling nervous, and even though everyone had been beyond kind to her so far, she couldn’t help the unsettling feeling in her stomach that something wasn’t right.

“I can’t wait to see your finished blouse,” Trixie was smiling, his hand on Blu’s arm. “I’m counting on you.”

“Mmh,” Blu nodded, pride in her eyes, and Trixie gave her one last squeeze, clearly intending to walk on and make sure everyone was having a good time.

“Trixie-” Violet took a step forward, her now boss turning around to look at her.

“Yes sweetheart?”

“I was wondering, if I could-” Violet wanted to throw herself out the window, the entire thing so terribly awkward, the fact that she was daring to even consider questioning her boss’ process, “it’s about the holiday collection-”

“Oh, that silly thing?” Trixie laughed, “Don’t worry about it.”

“But,” Violet took another step forward, “I’d like to, like to worry, that is-”

“You’ll watch the design meeting on Thursday, see how things are done around here.” Trixie smiled. “Ease into it, take it slow.”

“But I have an idea for-” Violet didn’t know if she was allowed, but she had already picked up a few of the unfavored fabric swatches, a white silk and some crushed red velvet so to Fame’s taste that she knew she had to give it a try. 

“If you really want to speed things up, you can spend tomorrow shadowing April.” 

“Really?” It wasn’t what Violet truly wanted, but anything, literally anything, would be better than another day of ‘taking it slow’.

“It’ll be perfect for you,” Trixie smiled, “I promise.”

Trixie then took a bite of the cronut in his hand, his eyes going wide. He turned from Violet to call out, “Kimberly! Kim, did you try these pumpkin chai cronuts?! Oh my god...”

As her boss wandered off to wax poetic about his pastry, Violet dug her fingers into her palm. Wasn’t this department supposed to be the lifeblood of the company? Why was everyone so chill?

Violet tried to be positive, tried to believe that Trixie was only doing what he thought best for her, but she couldn’t help wondering if she was still working for Galactica, the feeling of utterly uselessness washing over her for the first time since she had started at the company.

***

“Are you feeling chopsticks or fork?” 

“Fork please.”

“Of course.” Violet smiled as Sutan began to dig through his cutlery drawer, soft jazz playing from the radio in the window. She had gotten somewhat used to seeing him without his suits in Paris, early morning Sutan walking around in pajama pants and t-shirts for as long as he could, but there was something special about seeing him in casual chinos and the sweaters he seemed to favor now that it was getting colder outside.

They were in his kitchen, Violet sitting at the table. When she had come over, Sutan had been setting up in the dining room, but she had asked him if they could please sit in the kitchen instead, the room so much cosier and lived in than the dining room. 

Violet had been looking forward to her first day in design since she started at Galactica, but now that she had gotten there, it felt like a hollow victory. 

She was sure tomorrow would be better, that it’d be more meaningful, but for now, she just wanted to spend time with the man she really genuinely liked. 

“Here you go.” Sutan handed her the fork. “You know,” Sutan smirked, crossing his arms, “You should really learn how to use chopsticks.”

“I know how to use chopsticks,” Violet looked up at Sutan, putting her fork down. “I just prefer not to.”

“Sure lovely eyes.” Sutan grinned, grabbing the back of her chair, leaning down to kiss her, when the doorbell rang.

“Ah,” Sutan gave her a quick peck, his lips tasting faintly like peppermint with an undercurrent of cigarettes, his eyes sparkling. 

“That must be the food.” Sutan stood up, reaching into his pocket for a wad of cash Violet hadn’t even noticed. “Do you mind finishing setting the table?”

“Of course not.” Violet stood herself as Sutan walked out, and she quickly crossed the room, opening the cabinet she knew housed Sutan’s plates. 

The request hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary, Violet helping more often than not, but as she actually looked at the kitchen table, she realized what she had accidentally said yes to. 

Sutan’s laptop was sitting in the middle, but besides that, the table was covered in work stuff, Sutan’s laptop, headshots, what Violet could only assume was contracts, folders and modeling portfolios spread all over. 

She couldn’t see any kind of system, and if she had been at work she wouldn’t have dared to move a single thing, but Sutan had asked her to take care of it, and take care of it she would.

Violet knew Sutan had an office, but she had never actually seen him use it, or heard him mention it. Violet felt weird moving Sutan’s work things, but as she quickly piled it all on one end of the table, she recognized that this was probably why she liked the kitchen so much.

It was obviously the place in the apartment Sutan used the most, and the one she instinctively felt was more Sutan than Raja; everywhere else, even Sutan’s own bedroom, so obviously designed and furnished by his twin.

It was a strange thought that Raja had so much influence on Sutan’s life, but it wasn’t something she was ever going to bring up, their relationship none of her business.

Violet was just a moment in time for Sutan, so who was she to make any sort of suggestion about anything.

“Ah, great.” She was just setting the plates, when Sutan returned with more takeout bags than Violet had ever expected. “You’re almost done.”

“Are we expecting company?” 

“Company?” Sutan looked confused for a moment, and Violet nodded her head towards the food in his arms, which caused him to laugh. “Please. This is just for us.” Sutan put the bags down, opening up the first one. “I figured it was worth celebrating your first day.”

“Huh.” Violet sat down on her chair once again, watching as Sutan produced one white cardboard carton after another. “How much did you get?”

“Oh you know, just a little bit of everything. I have dumplings, wontons and egg rolls, chow mein, orange chicken, beef and broccoli, black pepper scallops, garlic eggplant. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

Violet didn’t want to tell Sutan that she only had a very limited idea of what she genuinely liked beyond orange chicken and white rice, a childhood of bland suburban chain restaurants and her years in New York on a tight budget never leaving her much room for indulgence.

“Interesting.” Violet bit her lip, but Sutan grinned, continuing the unpacking. “Have you ever heard of cronuts?”

“What?” Sutan paused, a carton in hand. He turned to her, an eyebrow raised. “Lovely eyes. I may be older than you, but I don’t live under a rock?”

“Hmm.” Violet had no idea that cronuts were apparently so well known, but she wasn’t going to show Sutan that. “We had them at work today.” 

“Did you like them?”

“Not really.” Violet took the carton of rice Sutan handed her. “They take a lot of breaks, at work, I mean.”

“Sounds like a nice place.” Sutan smiled, sitting down.

VIolet nodded, opening her rice as Sutan started talking about his day. It was always nice to be around him, Sutan often chatting away in his low baritone, filling out the silence so Violet never felt obligated to speak if she didn’t want to.

“Oh-” Sutan paused, a piece of broccoli in his chopsticks. “That reminds me. What are you wearing on Friday?”

“Friday?” Violet quickly ran through her week in her head, and she was fairly certain that she had nothing on the agenda for friday.

“Yes? For Bianca’s birthday.”

“Bianca’s birthday? Bianca Del Rio?” 

“Mmh.” Sutan popped the broccoli in his mouth, quickly chewing it. “It’s her 40th, and I figured it’d be nice if we coordinated.”

“Oh.” Violet bit her lip. Surprised that Sutan was dumping it on her like this, since she knew for a fact that he hadn’t mentioned it until this very moment. “And the birthday is this Friday?”

Violet tried to hide her anxiety, her heart speeding up in her chest. She didn’t have any idea what the dress code was and what to wear or where the party was being held.

“I can invite someone else?” 

“What?” Violet’s head snapped up at the words. Sutan looked completely relaxed, like he hadn’t just dropped a gigantic bomb, like this wasn’t strange at all, like it was normal for him to have so many girls lined up that he could find someone with no problem at all. 

“If you don’t want to go-”

“No, no.” Violet closed her hand, digging her fingers into her palm under the table. “It’s fine. It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Violet started her new job in the design department. 
> 
> This Chapter: Galactica’s newest designer has a bit of trouble adjusting to Trixie’s management style.

April stood in front of the dress forms and collection of samples at her desk, brow furrowed, her arms crossed.

Trixie had approved two knitted pieces for her to pitch to Miss Fame and Raja for the holiday collection, and she loved the sketches she had been allowed to turn into garments, but something wasn’t right. 

The dress that had looked so good on paper now looked, well, it looked like a right mess.

April had machine-knitted half a bodice so far, but it was much too bulky, too old and awkward compared to the delicate fresh thing she had had in mind. 

She was trying to figure out if the yarn was the problem, or the pattern...or both, and then there was the shawl. 

April had made several samples of different weaves, trying out knit and crochet styles with various sized yarn, but she wasn’t satisfied with any of them. They just didn’t capture the movement and magic of the sketch. She picked up her tablet, scrolling once again through her inspiration folder, trying to find a better template for her ideas.

April was so engrossed in her work, that she barely noticed the figure that was standing behind her, a soft cough and a quiet ‘excuse me’ pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Violet,” April smiled, “Good morning.”

“Hello.” Violet shifted awkwardly. She was wearing a flared, high waisted skirt and a light pink silk blouse, her curled hair held by a pearl hair clip. “I’m sorry to interrupt. But Trixie told me that I should shadow you today, so…”

“Of course! Come on over!” April gestured to a stool at her work station. “So…” April grinned, ready to hopefully make a new friend at work. “How was your first day? Are you surviving?”

“It was...very interesting.” Violet perched gingerly on the stool, eyes taking in everything at April’s station, examining the knitting and crochet samples with dark, curious eyes. 

April was proud of her desk, the flag of Puerto Rico hung up alongside a Taurus sign and some pictures of her and her girlfriend.

“I’m looking forward to the work.”

April smiled, picking up the sketch she had been working on to show it to Violet.

“I’m trying to match the weave. This one comes close, but I think something’s missing. It needs to be… Lacier, I think. Any suggestions are more than welcome.” 

“I’m afraid knit isn’t my area of expertise...” Violet reached out, taking the sketch. “Maybe if you, um… No, that’s stupid.” Violet looked down, clearly very uncomfortable with giving her opinion, which April didn’t understand.

“Tell me! Worst case scenario, it doesn’t work.” 

“It doesn’t feel right to tell you what to do, since you know so much more than me about this.” 

Ah. There it was. April had met people like Violet before, those who thought that lone wolves did best.

“Girl,” April smiled. “That’s the whole point of being here in this room together.” She pointed, several of their coworkers flocked together in little groups. “It’s so we can collaborate and give each other ideas and feedback and learn new things.” 

“Okay…” Violet looked around the room, seemingly genuinely surprised. “So you just…give each other feedback? All the time?”

“Yeah! Well, the experienced designers anyway.” April pulled some of her hair over her shoulder. “People who aren’t collaborative don’t last very long here.”

April didn’t like to give names, that was much more of Alexis or Bob’s speed, but it wasn’t gossip to tell Violet that certain people in the department weren’t doing too great.

“Oh!” April paused on an image, showing it to Violet eagerly. “What do you think of this one? But with lighter, fuzzier yarn and a more open weave?” 

“Is the Galactica customer a fuzzy yarn woman?” 

“Ha!” April snorted, surprised at how quickly Violet’s judgement came. “You’re probably right about that. Let’s scratch it.”

“Lighter sounds good. Both weight, and maybe a paler blue?” Violet fingered one of the yarn samples, before she picked it up. “This one is beautiful, with the silvery threads.”

“Ohh, yeah!” April smiled, putting a hand on Violet’s shoulder. “See, this is exactly why we ask for other opinions. Always, always consult your colleagues.”

“Right.” Violet nodded solemnly, biting her lip. She looked a bit uncomfortable, so April gave her shoulder another reassuring squeeze. 

“I wouldn’t worry, though.” April sat back down. “Everyone already knows you. The real trouble happens with people who just refuse to work as part of a team. You know?” April smiled warmly, but to her dismay, Violet still seemed tense and stressed. “Seriously, don’t worry.” 

Violet nodded again, shifting her gaze back to April’s dress forms, clearing her throat and saying, “I like the pleats on your dress.” 

“Oh yeah? Thanks!” April ran her hand over the swath of ombre knitted pleats pinned to the form. “That’s the one part I feel confident about!” 

“It’s very beautiful. I don’t have a lot of experience with knits, but it’s a lovely technique.”

“Thanks. Hopefully upstairs agrees with that.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially and added, “Although, knowing Fame and Raja, I’ll need to make a few alternates just to give them something to say no to.” 

Violet laughed, finally seeming to relax a bit. “They do enjoy saying no.” 

***

“Eighth row to the left, eighth row to the left.”

Violet whispered to herself as she made her way down the narrow hallways in the warehouse.

Violet didn’t like to think of herself like a whiner, but it was only Wednesday, and she honestly felt like she had been run over by a truck.

She had shadowed April all of yesterday, the other designer very pleasant to be around with her bright smile and sparkling brown eyes, her nose ring both distracting and interesting, but Violet had still gone directly to bed when she returned to her apartment, a dress that she hoped would be appropriate for Bianca’s birthday under her arm. 

It had cost half of her emergency fund to buy an unexpected gown, but she refused to risk looking anything but her best. 

“Ah.” Violet turned, finally making it to the eighth row. She had seen Maxwell leave the warehouse yesterday with the most gorgeous roll of brocade, and she had instantly asked him where he had found it. “Here we are.”

Violet smiled to herself, running her hand over a deep red fabric. Violet had showed up that morning at 8 am sharp, just to realize that she was the only one there, the office completely empty, which was why she had sought refuge in the warehouse.

Violet was just about to make her way back, to check if April or anyone had shown up, when she realized that the next row was filled with pieces of clothing she had never seen before.

Violet didn’t know if she was allowed, but she walked over, a small gasp leaving her when she recognized what it was.

She knew that the rejected pieces were kept somewhere in the bowels of Galactica, but she never expected to see them for herself.

Violet reached out, flipping through, smiling as she recognized her now new coworkers’ styles, one of the pieces practically screaming Jovan at her. She paused for a moment at a silvery gala gown that had the right idea, the neckline beautiful, but she could see how it had been rejected, the silvery fabric scratchy to the touch.

The next time Violet paused was a ripped sweater. It looked like it had been made by the strange goth she hadn’t had a chance to talk with yet, Andre or something like that. Violet couldn’t help but judge it deeply, the style something Fame would never ever approve in a million years for the Galactica customer.

Violet released the garment, letting it fall back. She looked around, a little unsure what to do, a little unsure how to spend her day, when she noticed that a pair of shoes had been shown in the back of the shelf. It made no sense, and as Violet looked a little closer, she realized that there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to how this part of the warehouse was organized.

She probably shouldn’t, but Violet felt a quick rush of excitement in her belly, pulling the notebook out that she still had a habit of carrying everywhere, and opened it to the first blank page, quickly jotting down her ideas for how the room could be upgraded.

***

Trixie unlocked the door to his office. He walked in, shrugging off the tote bag he had chosen for the day. It was a cotton one with a crooked butterfly in glitter, but Trixie loved it since it had been made by one of Katya’s students. The child had demanded 35 dollars for it from him, and while Katya had told him repeatedly that he didn’t have to pay that much, he had respected the hussle. 

Trixie took off his orange beanie, his bald head already getting too cold if he didn’t wear a hat, and pulled off his puffer jacket, hanging it up on his coat stand.

Trixie grabbed the lunch box Katya had packed for him, the metal tin decorated with haute couture Barbies. Trixie adored the fact that Katya packed his lunch every single day, the little act of love something he truly treasured. Trixie sat down at his desk.

Trixie’s office wasn’t the most luxurious one at Galactica, but he loved it all the same. He had his desk and a small couch, a comfortable armchair at his desk for the people who came to talk, his own sewing machine in the corner as well as a miniature fridge.

But what he really loved about his office, was his collection of Barbies. The entire wall, on both sides of his door, was filled with shelving that was overflowing with Barbies, the dolls all sorted by decade.

Trixie knew that Katya would let him have them at home if he wanted to, but he liked having them there, and liked the constant reminder of what had actually gotten him into fashion in the first place, the crown jewel of his collection, the doll he had stolen from his sister when he was 9.

Trixie sat down at his computer, ready to get to answering his emails on something other than his phone, when he heard a knock on the door.

“Come in!”

Trixie watched as Violet poked her head in, a slightly worried look on her face.

“Trixie, hi,” Violet closed the door behind her, “I’m sorry to barge in but-”

“Oh don’t worry about that,” Trixie smiled. He didn’t have a glass door like Pearl, but everyone was always welcome in his office. “What can I do for you?”

Violet was wearing a black shirt dress that was cinched in at the waist and black Louboutin heels, her hair in a high ponytail.

“I was wondering-”

“Wait, why aren’t you with April?”

“She hasn’t come in yet.”

“Ah.” Trixie shot a quick glance at the pink heart-shaped clock above his door. It was barely 9:30, and since they were in the off-season, Trixie never made a fuss as long as people came in before 11. However, he couldn’t resist teasing Violet a bit for being a narc. “Well,” Trixie smiled. “I’ll make sure to put a frowny face sticker on her chart.”

Violet looked confused for a second, and Trixie remembered that she used to work for Fame.

“I’m joking.”

“Of course.” Violet looked visibly relieved, and Trixie had to hide a smile. “I was in the warehouse earlier today-”

“Good!” Trixie sat up in his chair. “Good.” It was nice to see that Violet was finally catching on.

“- and I have some ideas that could potentially streamline the storage system-”

Ah. No. Seemed like she hadn’t caught on at all.

“Violet,” Trixie leaned over his desk, accidentally bumping his fluffy pen with his elbow as he folded his hands. “Violet, Violet, Violet. You’re not an assistant anymore.”

Trixie didn’t notice how Violet’s hands instantly went behind her back, her spine straightening out.

“You need to stop thinking with the right side of your brain, and tap-” Trixie tapped his temple, “into the left side. The creative side.”

“I was under the assumption that the right side was the creative side?”

“Really?” Trixie raised an eyebrow. “Well, what do I know? I’m not a scientist.” He smiled. “The point is, Violet, that you’re supposed to take it easy this week. Explore, get to know your coworkers.”

“But-”

Trixie had never had this much trouble with a new hire, his people normally more than grateful when he told them to take it easy.

“Know what, I don’t want to see you for the rest of the day.”

“What?” Violet now looked truly worried, “but-”

“I insist. It’s beautiful outside. Take a walk in the park, get a hot dog-”

Violet’s nose scrunched up immediately, and Trixie laughed.

“Okay, maybe not a hot dog. Get a coffee, people watch, let your mind wander.”

“If you insist.”

“Sweetheart,” Trixie looked at her, ”You look like I told you to kick a puppy.”

“I’m not being ungrateful-”

“I’m not saying you are?”

“It’s just…” Violet bit her lip, the desperate plea back in her eyes. “I like work.” 

“Violet.” Trixie walked over, putting a gentle hand on her back, ready to push her out the door. “I know you’ve been used to upstairs, but you’re in a new department. Believe me, fresh air will do you good. It’ll help you get on our wavelength.”

“If you believe so,” Violet looked at him. “Coach.”

“Attagirl,” Trixie laughed. “Now go. Go and enjoy your day.” 

***

It was Wednesday after lunch and Max had only meant to grab a cup of tea from the small staff room on his floor. 

No one ever used it, everyone either preferring it’s bigger sibling two floors down, or simply Starbucks, but Max was elbow deep in editing photos, his headphones over his ears, being forced to interact with other people the last thing he wanted.

He had pushed the door open, expecting to be alone, but instead, he caught sight of a pacing VIolet, the woman looking completely frazzled.

“Violet?” Max reached up, taking his headphones off.

“Max?” Violet sounded genuinely confused for a second, and Max felt his stomach clench, the look in her eyes so haunted. “Sorry, I wasn’t aware anyone would be-” Violet cut herself off. “I’ll be on my way-”

“Hey,” Max reached out, gently grabbing her arms so she couldn’t run away. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” Violet looked down, refusing to meet his eyes. “I have to get back, I’m really fine.”

“Sure, and I’m not behind on my deadline.” Max smiled. “Sit down, and I’ll make us some tea.”

Max put the kettle on, opening his metal tin of Earl Grey tea. He looked over at Violet, the woman sitting on the couch, her hands twisted in her lap. 

“So,” Max took two mugs from the overhead cabinet, “what’s going on?”

He hadn’t had many hearts to hearts with Violet, but if there was one thing he had observed, it was that she generally did best when you didn’t try to force eye contact. 

“I am fine, it’s just.. I don’t think this was what I expected.”

“What was?”

“Design.”

“Oh shit,” Max turned, filled cups in hand. “It’s your first week, right?”

“Mmh.” Violet nodded, her lip between her teeth. 

“Is Trixie not treating you right?”

“No, no no no, he is, he absolutely is. It’s just...On my first day as Fame’s assistant, I got a list of things to do, that was so long I was in the office until 3am.”

Max nodded. That sounded exactly like Fame, the woman never one for going easy on people, no matter how much he cared for her.

“And now, now…I was asked to go to the park Max, the park?!” Violet looked at Max, an expression of what seemed like fright in her eyes. “I have no assignments, while my colleagues are all slaving away on different garments. Why doesn’t he think I can handle the work? I want to be here, I want to be here more than anything else, why can’t he see that?”

Max was speechless. One would think after being Fame’s assistant for so long, Violet would be excited for a time to decompress and just work on sketches and see that work didn’t have to be stress and 14-hour work days.

“Violet. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you may be the craziest person I’ve ever met. There is not a single person in this entire company who doesn’t firmly believe you could handle any job thrown at you.”

“Okay…” Violet sounded hesitant, their hands still intertwined. “But if he believes in me why isn’t he-”

“Trixie is your boss now and I don’t know if you noticed. Trixie and Fame are very different people. Their personalities and work styles aren’t the same. Trixie doesn’t do stress, you should know that already.”

“He doesn’t.” Violet nodded, looking at least a little better than when they started talking.

“You’ll be fine.” Max smiled. “I promise.”

“You know what.” Violet smiled back, the fire once again lit in her eyes. “I will be. I’ll just have to make him see what I can do.”

***

Aiden was sitting in the Thursday design meeting, shuffling his papers nervously, biding his time. 

The design floor’s meeting room was set up like a miniature auditorium, making it easy for whoever was standing at the bottom presenting to make sure they had everyone's attention.

Right now, Trixie was talking, walking back and forth as he ran through the week's updates. Aiden knew that Trixie always opened the floor up for new pitches once they’d gone through all the assigned work, but for the nearly two months since he’d started, he’d been afraid to speak up. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in his work...not exactly. It was just that he still wasn’t sure how he fit in here at Galactica. Everything was so clique-y, and no matter what he did, he just never felt like part of the family. 

All the other gay men in the department were so close-knit, and their boisterous humor always ended up making Aiden feel like he was under the microscope. He definitely didn’t feel comfortable with Alexis and her close cohorts either, who spoke Spanish to each other all day, and the other “baby” designers were basically best friends, who didn’t seem too jazzed to bring Aiden into the fold. 

And not just on a personal level, but the collections, too. 

He hasn’t been around for the initial brainstorming of the Spring collection, but he’d been there for the last-minute mad dash of a revamp, and the key words that kept getting repeated were “cohesion” and “classic glamour” and the kind of things that really made him wonder if a weirdo like himself had a place here. 

So Aiden had been holding back, even when he had designs that he thought were great and innovative and exciting. Sometimes, rarely, he’d slip his sketches to Trixie after the meeting, and the response was occasionally encouraging. 

This week, though, he was determined to present his work. He was really proud of it...an oversized, slouchy, drop-waisted sweater dress with an argyle design around the edges, perfect for this year’s Holiday Collection. It was original, true to his style, but also would look perfectly  _ cohesive _ with April’s more classic fit and flare sweater dress. It was a home-run. 

Aiden barely paid attention during the bulk of the meeting because he was so excited, too excited. 

When Trixie announced that it was time for open discussion, just like he usually did, Aiden looked through his sketches one last time, preparing himself to finally make his pitch. 

He took a deep breath, but before he could get a word out, a voice piped up from the other side of the room, saying, “I’ve got something.” 

Trixie smiled widely. “Alright, Violet, let’s see what you’ve got!” 

Ugh. The new girl. Fame’s former assistant. Someone who, as far as Aiden could tell, was already getting preferential treatment. 

Everyone knew her, and welcomed her with open arms, and all week he’d been seeing the other designers bend over backwards to help her get situated in a way they’d  _ never _ done with him. 

Aiden watched, a frown on his lip as Violet pulled out a stack of full-color sketches mounted on foam core, as well as a collage of fabric swatches. 

“I’ve made some suggestions and gown concepts for the Holiday Collection.” Violet was looking directly at Trixie, making sure she had his attention.

“I’ve stayed within the cooler jewel tone color story of the collection, and I decided to focus on sapphire and blue topaz, but I’m open for whatever changes are deemed necessary.”

Aiden caught April smiling, the other designer twirling a bit of her hair around her fingers as she watched Violet.

“My first idea,” Violet pulled up a sketch mounted on foam core, “is a play on the asymmetrical neckline from the pieces that Blu and Jovan are working on. My second is a more classic ball gown, meant to compliment the lines of April’s knits, while my third is a couture piece, keeping in line with the robust shapes used by Alexis, Maxwell and Gia.” 

Aiden’s mouth went dry, looking at her full-color sketches. His presentation--a few rough sketches, along with a little 3 by 3 square of the chunky knit pattern, which he’d felt so proud of mere moments earlier, now seemed utterly lacking in comparison. He lowered his head, an angry flush rising to his cheeks as he fumed in his seat. She’d just gotten to the department days ago, and she wanted to design couture ball gowns? The fucking  _ nerve _ . 

“So, I see you completely ignored my instructions to take it easy this week,” Trixie chuckled, taking the sketches from Violet and looking them over carefully. 

“My apologies.” Violet said, earning chuckles from the other designers. 

“Uh! This one is amazing!” Maxwell exclaimed, peering over Trixie’s shoulder. “Coach, you gotta take this one off the bench. She’s a star.” 

“Alright, alright.” Trixie held up the sketch, saying, “If you think you can have something ready to present to Fame and Raja at the pitch meeting on Tuesday, then go ahead. But you know how they are, so be prepared for a tough critique, and to give them alternate concepts.” 

Violet nodded, beaming happily and Aiden could just slap the grin off her stupid face. 

“Anyone else? New ideas?” Trixie asked. 

“Like anyone with a brain’s gonna follow that,” Alexis said, and everyone laughed. 

Aiden gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white, steaming mad as Trixie dismissed them. He hurried back to his desk, prepared to obsess more over his sketches. Maybe he could make them look a bit more finished and hand them to Trixie tomorrow. There was still a chance, right? 

He’d nearly calmed himself down when the door to the floor opened and several soft gasps sounded from the designers around him. 

“That’s  _ Raven _ ,” Kiara whispered to Blu, eyes wide with admiration.

Aiden had never seen the model in person, but there she was. Raven Petruschin was standing in the doorway, an indifferent look on her face as she took in the design floor. 

She was wearing what looked to be a grey cashmere sweater dress, the fabric hugging her in all the right places, her long black hair falling down her back.

“What’s she doing here?” Blu whispered back. 

“Um… Can I help you…?” Kandy asked, standing from her desk and hurrying to the supermodel’s side. 

“Yes, I’m here to see- Violet!” she spotted the brunette at her station, smiling widely. “Hello darling.” Raven waved.

“Raven?” Violet looked genuinely surprised and even stunned.

“So I was just visiting Raja and thought I’d come down to congratulate the newest designer. Look at you, and look at your little desk, and your little work-appropriate outfit. This is all too cute.” 

Aiden’s mouth dropped open. So now, as if Violet didn’t have enough attention, she was getting drop-in visits from supermodels? It was entirely, horribly unfair. He crumpled up the sketch in front of him, ripping it for good measure before chucking it into the trash. 

Now thoroughly aggravated, Aiden stomped over to the breakroom to get some coffee, only one though burning in his mind. 

S _ omeone needs to bring that Violet Chachki down a peg _ . 

***

Violet couldn’t believe that her first week in design was almost over. She had come in that morning at 8 sharp, everyone else trickling in between 9:30 and 11, the office now filled with chatter while everyone worked.

The department still had more coffee breaks than Violet could count, her bewilderment at how anything ever actually got done still more than present, but she had started to get used to the jovial and lighthearted atmosphere, her coworkers so much nicer than Violet had ever expected. 

She admitted that she hadn’t been feeling her best all week, the thought of Bianca’s party that evening still stressful, but for now, she had a task and a timeline, the fact that she had actual work to do beyond soothing for her frazzled nerves. 

Violet was putting the finishing touches on fabric swatch collage when suddenly, with no warning, the door to the department banged open, the entire energy in the room changing immediately, everyone tensing up in fear. 

She looked up to see what could have caused such an immediate and drastic change, when she heard the familiar click of Courtney’s heels, the blonde barreling into the room like a bat out of hell. 

“Everyone!” Courtney yelled, and Violet took in her appearance, realising that she hadn’t thought of Courtney even once during the last week.

“Fame needs the dress with the gold pockets!” Courtney exclaimed, and a murmur of confusion went through the designers. “Does anyone know this dress? Gold pockets!” 

“That’s all she said?” Maxwell asked, a concerned expression on his face and Violet had to control herself not to roll her eyes or reprimand the attitude.

If Fame wanted golden pockets, it was Courtney’s job to get golden pockets, nevermind the fact that it wasn’t all that much to go on. 

Behind him, Kandy was rapping hard on Trixie’s door to get his attention. Blu looked like she was about to pee her pants in terror, and April was frantically pawning through the racks of last year’s holiday collection that they’d been keeping out for reference, pulling anything that had even the slightest hint of gold. 

“Yes! I looked through the notes from the last meeting but there was nothing gold, or in the previous one, does anyone know what she might-” Courtney looked on the verge of tears, or a breakdown, Violet barely keeping in the urge to tell Courtney to get it together. 

Violet bit her lip. She knew every Galactica collection from the beginning of the company backwards and forwards, and she couldn’t recall any dress that looked even slightly like it.

If they had been in the office, if Violet had still been first assistant, she would have hissed at Courtney to think, the blonde probably misunderstanding something, but that wasn’t her place anymore.

“Oh!” Alexis snapped her fingers, stating, “Resort collection, 2011! Remember, Manila made that shift dress with the gold pockets?” 

“Yes!” Trixie exclaimed. “But Fame hated it. She told her that it looked like Housewife Barbie Goes Mod. Why would she want that dress? Are you sure she-”

“Where is it, she wants it!” Courtney said, wringing her hands. She looked at her phone, clearly aware of how long this task was taking, how Fame would probably chew her out for taking so long.

“It must be stored with the other rejects from that collection, right?” Maxwell said. 

“On it!” Bob said, heading for the warehouse, Courtney running after him closely. 

As soon as they disappeared behind the big metal doors, an audible sigh of relief rippled through the room. 

Violet looked over Jovan, who was taking what looked like a big yoga cleansing breath. “And that,” he drawled, letting out the air in his lungs, “Is what it’s like when there’s a request from upstairs.” 

“Huh.” Violet had never really considered who it had to look from the other side, had never cared too deeply about the chaos she had surely set off on her quest to fulfill Fame’s every request. “Is that how I-?” 

“Mmm,” Jovan grinned, leaning over his desk, “not exactly.” It seemed like Jovan liked to gossip, though Violet had a feeling that he’d say the exact same thing to your face. “You’d usually call ahead, which somehow made it worse when we couldn’t answer.”

“Oh.” Violet cringed on the inside. 

“And when you did come in, you were like a Storm Cloud of Doom. Courtney’s more…” 

“Chaos Hurricane,” Maxwell supplied. 

“That.” 

Chaos Hurricane was exactly the right description for Courtney, at least when she was in a panic. 

Violet almost would have felt guilty, especially when Courtney went running back through the floor, a garment bag clutched in her hands. But all she could manage to feel was content, as she looked over at her dress form, the pattern pieces pinned together, completely on the right track for the meeting next Tuesday. 


End file.
